


Thrawnbine77 Fanfic: Aliit Vucon'ocir

by SWAG_77



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Rebels, Thrawnbine
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-03 16:51:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8721397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SWAG_77/pseuds/SWAG_77
Summary: Mitth'raw'nuruodo, a Chiss Imperial Officer distant emotions with a cool reflective to lead his sector fleet in the Galactic Empire. His strategies and tactics work better when he is devoid of emotion, as taught by the Chiss Ascendancy House Nuruodo. He was exiled from his people as punishment for an outburst he had in Chiss Space. Or at least that is what is on the official record. Found on an undeveloped planet, the Galactic Empire embraced him and he rose through the Imperial ranks to a Grand Admiral. Life is lonely at the top. It bores him, the people, the slow pace, the loneliness. His personal studies in art and antiquities brought him creature-comfort joy. Then he met a young Rebel woman, a Mandalorian, an artist that excites his fascination in the galaxy and gives him room to breathe, creatively. A fiery passion ignites his desires. The Chiss thought the Ascendancy excise those genes from the gene pool through eugenics. Turns out his desires for community are not genetic. His desires expand and reverberate continuously in the Force.





	1. The Decadent Chiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Assumptions about what might be going on here in this [meta](http://getthrawnin.tumblr.com/post/154059148499/meta-1-csilla-is-a-warm-methane-ice-planet)

The two brothers were inseparable as they ran through a dark cave into the next alcove and through to another cave to get to their "ecometrics" class. They were two years old, but looked 4 years old for human standards. Their age is primary school for Chiss younglings. Raw who is the oldest, only by a few moments, races through the caves the fastest before his brother, Ras, who catches up to him. By Raw's estimation, they had one more hard lava tube to open to the gold sand, and purple-green grassy knoll, with deep-purple-salty ocean laps on their homeworld, Csilla.

The two boys run up and down the purple grassy knoll hills until their comlinks chirp. They stare at each other and nod to return to the caves. They find their parents speaking to a large tripartite insect in regal attire. Raw races to hug the thoracic tail of the insect, a member of the Killik species, who playfully swings around Raw as he squeals holding on for dear life. He squeaks about. “Come brother, ride it, too! She can hold us both.”

Ras shakes his head as he angles to his mother, a beautiful Cerulean skinned woman with a short blue-black hair with small braided purple silk sections on the sides, and a head band that pulls the strays back. Raw’s and Ras’s father, a strong dark Cerulean skin and a strong jaw lifts Raw off the tail as his red-in-red eyes glisten to coddle Raw. “Now, Mitth’raw, you know better. Amt is only here to harvest the purple pollen for her hive, and then she and the Killiks leave. She can’t play with you all day.”

A hologram appears from a planetwide transmission from the huge grid-locked underground metropolis, Capsla.

 

_“The Ascendancy has interpreted the threat to come from the Killik hive that threatens our species. The Killiks have shifted the position of our sun away from Csilla. There will be further expansion methane sheet ice into an ice-age climate, including the equatorial regions. We give all Decadent Chiss, twenty-four hours to evacuate before we will start our Operation Anti-Chiss Genocide. Any Chiss who harbors an Anti-Chiss, or appears to be a Joiner, will be quarantined and under Chiss biological protocols.”_

 

Raw’s and Ras’s parents glare that the transmission, and stare at one another in fear, and then show concern to Amt, the Killik, a part of the royal family. They cannot lose her. But Amt, blocks them and removes a proboscis and injects thousands of years of strategic and tactical knowledge that her pheromones contain into Raw’s upper back. She rises on her hind legs and flies out of the cave system and to her "ship" to leave Csilla before the harvest.

Raw absorbs the highly active neurologically mutating pheromones as his body bucks from the flow of information and increased strategic and tactical knowledge. His eye lids flutter as he is propelled into an indescribable dimension of thousands of planets and stars. He knows them. He speaks in tongues gibberish as he quotes these data of each of the universe that the Killik gave to him. Then he speaks his home tongue of mathematical equations and engineering tactical plans that his Chiss two year old age would never know. Suddenly, he stops as his eyes go white and he collapses in his father’s arms, unconscious. His mother picks up Ras who cries unable to understand what happened to his brother, Raw. They cover Raw’s injections site with the lotion from the Killiks that consists of purple pollen algae and herbs, and quickly wrap Raw's back to minimize the swelling from his bug bite. They must hide it from the Ascendancy, who would kill him if they knew of the bite. His family immediately races to the transport canoe that contain their survival supplies to go to another location on the planet.

Raw still unconscious as his father carefully explains to Ras what he must say. “Mitth’ras, you have to help your brother. You must never tell Ascendancy what happened here. What Amt did to Raw. Promise me you will never say anything.”

Suddenly, rocks explode with flying debris everywhere and falling into the underground rapids waterway. Two hovercraft sized remote large war droids called, Kinetic Armed Laser Interrupter droids or KALI droids. They skim the water racing to townspeople to disintegrate them to ash. The father’s eyes widen then narrow evenly as they race to the canoe with survival supplies. More KALI droids appear and disintegrate people. The loudspeaker of the Chiss Ascendancy has deemed them as hostile terrorists.

“Daddy?” Ras whimpers. “I don’t want to leave Mommy and you.” His hand releases his mother’s as a KALI droid whizzes up to her, scans her and disintegrates her. Ras wails as he sees the ash fall and stares at the light plasma fill in the barrel of the gun. The father races to pick up a wailing Ras and throws him into the canoe rapidly as the hears the KALI droid search for them. His father stutters in fear and pushes the children into the cave river rapids.

At that moment, Raw jolts awake to watch the light of disintegration turn his mother into ash. He sees his father push them away, as the light disintegrates his father’s body as the ash blows downstream. No time to mourn, as a tactical thought enters in his mind. Raw hears Ras wail. He closes his eyes and envisions an attack plan. He reaches for the rocket launcher, arms it and fires at the stalagmites in the cave. The rock falls on the KALI droid toppling it but does not stop the chase. He raises the launcher to his tiny shoulder and looks up at the oncoming chasing KALI droid that chases, Raw fires into the stalagmite with extreme precision. It falls on the KALI droid before particles of disintegration plasma fire. Then Raw launches a small missile into an vacant area that causes a huge electromagnetic pulse to shut down all the KALI droids in a 200 meter radius as he and his brother ride in the canoe.

The rapids flow faster as a small eddy falls the canoe into a large river, down an embankment, then over a waterfall, to a pool of cold water near by another village, similar, but different from theirs. Chiss Soldiers of House Nuruodo gawk at the child soldiers as Decadent Chiss illegally used child soldiers.

A young officer, Captain Ar’alani steps forward, and examines the boys. She sees the rocket launcher on Raw’s shoulder, and glances at the whimpering Ras. The boys are thinner than normal, but seem healthy.

A Chiss Soldier reports. "Two stalagmites fell on the KALI droids that caused an EMP, Ma'am."

Captain Ar'lani mouth drops by Raw's tactical efficiency at such a young age and glares sternly at him and his rocket launcher. “I wonder who could have done that?”

“Ma’am, these anti-Chiss Joiners must be euthanized, immediately.” Announces a Chiss Soldier.

“Kill them? No, they are orphans, now. They can’t be held responsible for their parent’s terrorist acts or their parent’s choice to cavort with Killiks.” She looks at their gaunt malnourished bodies caused by an anti-Chiss lifestyle decided by the parents. All they have lived is a life against order. A life against progress. A life against the true "Founding Families" who discovered and tamed the planet, Csilla to make it the homeworld of the Chiss.

Captain Ar'alani believes that the Decadent Chiss and their desire for anarchy would kill the Chiss Ascendancy. Their radical ideas were strange to her. Their acts an admixture of several different animals: lions, goats, dogs, and hydra serpents. Like one bodied animal, but different distinct parts. Like a chimaera. The equatorial Decadent Chiss had a life that disrupts the cohesiveness of the Chiss Ascendancy. Their life brought chaos to the tranquil, clean ordered environment of the Ascendancy and in Captain Ar’alani's thoughts, were if she could reclaim the Decadent's children and possibly re-educate the official Chiss Ascendancy way, then Decadent Chiss could return to society as civilized for the greater good. All her calculations were exact within certainty. “Send the younglings to be tested for placement with the Houses after a health screening and vaccinations, since their parents refused to give them any and they do not have any, as of yet.”

She gets into her floating car with her entourage as two KALI droids follow to continue to the next Decadent Chiss village.

 


	2. The Chiss Ascendancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Chiss Ascendancy has hard and fast rules. Everyone must abide. Thrawn knows that. But the threat beyond the space boarders is huge and studying the problem will not stop the problem. His love for his people drives his passion to do what he has been trained to do in the military. Except, the Chiss Ascendancy does not allow for nonconformity and individual independent thought or action.

Dressed in his neat navy-black blue uniform, Mitth’raw’nuruodo expeditiously walks into Admiral Ar’alani’s office for his new assignment. She is 15 years older than Mitth’raw. At 42 years of age she has experience, but she appears to be similar in age to Mitth’raw. Whereas, Mitth’raw is 17 years old, but due to being an adult at 10 years age, he looks 30 years old. The length of his missions is commensurate of a higher tiered officer than his lieutenant rank. His helm of starships protects Chiss space. He mainly ran off the pirate race called Vagaari who pillage Chiss planets and their constant attacks were felt across the Chiss economy. Mitth’raw hopes to be by her side and end this foolish poaching by pirates.

The look on her face said the conversation is not about a promotion. Her scowl and hand gestures indicate a verbal battle with her superiors in regards to him. It is as if the echoes from that conversation reverberate in the room. The Vagaari hailed his ship. He fired on them without warning and destroyed their tiny fleet. His report to the Aristocra got him a public reprimand from one of the old leaders. Her old voice resonates. _“The Chiss defend, we are never aggressive.”_

Mitth’raw and his House Nuruodo taught him to protect Chiss space. Memories from some unknown entity fills his minds, as he sees that the Vagaari act with aggression against the Chiss for flying into their space. He closes his eyes to gauge her breathing rhythm, the smell of the pre-fabricated underground air of the increase anger in the room, and his tension and presence. He chose to remain calm, very, very calm.

“If you take the position along the outer edge of Chiss space, at Redoubt cluster with the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet, your rank will be Commander.” Admiral Ar’alani rose to be similar in height to Mitth’raw. She stares at his red-in-red eyes and his cerulean skin, a develop blue than most Chiss. When she first met him as a little boy, he was light blue and sickly. She saw Mitth’raw as her son, her child, though the Ascendancy practices genetic modifications and eugenics.

In the Ascendancy, the difference between the genders are irrelevant. Male, female, means nothing to the genetic propagation of their race. Chiss men and women go to a clinic, donate their samples, and the clinic decides the best mating protocols for in vitro. Fetuses are grown in specialize fertilization cylinders within 4-6 months. No birth defects. No neurological questions. No concern for genetics. Blood bonds were could be decided later for families. The Chiss Ascendancy endorses it as the only way of the Chiss.

For a few Chiss, sometimes, there is a strong desire for family and motherhood. Admiral Ar’alani had that desire since she met Mitth’raw and Mitth’ras. However, different Houses, like theirs, Nuruodo, were not created to feel familial tension. For Ar’alani, whenever she felt the need for family she would break it and go on a sex tirade, sleep around promiscuously. Yet, her desire to procreate persists. The Decadent Chiss, believe in family, in parents, in natural birth. Mitth’raw and his brother, Mitth’ras’safis were procreated and born naturally, without technology. No genetic background checks. No vaccinations. All strong natural Chiss, like good slabs of fresh meat from a butcher put out on the slab. Whereas, lab created men and women smelled artificial and faked to Ar’alani. Their sweat and pores did not stink, a smell of prefabricated watery gel with additives for a scent. Mitth’raw smells. He stinks sometimes. To her, he smells manly, from the outdoors topside. She knew instinctively, he is not a man from the test tube petri dish. He is a man that protects like a predatory animal that stank.

Most of the Houses of the Ascendancy silently applaud Mitth’raw for his plunder of the Vagaari fleet. Congratulations came from his own, House Nuruodo. But publicly, they could not have his aggressive tendency infiltrate their ranks before the fallen Chiss who die from **_decadence_**. He may be the public’s favorite wild son. But Mitth’raw is still a Decadent Chiss, and the Ascendancy should lionize him rather than to promote him in rank to commander. The Chiss Ascendancy must stand for law and order for the enlightened and tranquil environment.

Yet, Mitth’raw made them feel safe from the Unknown Region threats. He could protect them and defeat their enemies. The Vagaari, the Killiks and any new nebulous threats. Such as some strange box like ships by a government calling itself the “Republic” powered by beings who use the Force, like the Sith. Then, there was another new threat: otherworldly beings who fly monstrous living ships in space from the Void between the galaxies. Mitth’raw made the discovery of these monstrous living ships after his battle with the pirates. He did not report it because he could not explain it, yet. While he had heard of these Republic ships, from a much larger galaxy with much more elegant weaponry, for the moment, the Vagaari were the main threat.

He listens to Admiral Ar’alani explain why she is placing him at the Redoubt Cluster installation.

“I did everything I could, Raw. But the Aristocra wants nothing to do with your incursion.”

“Despite my protection to the Chiss hyperspace lane?”

“Well, you do not know if they were after the hyperspace lane or a planet?”

“I said in my report--”

“Yes. You said they were in the hyperspace lane and they appear on your ship’s scopes as you are being fired upon by the Vagaari. But Raw, you know you can’t hold that kind of maneuver or position unless you _planned_  to attack as an offensive maneuver.” She glares at him because she knew he put himself into that attack position to kill pirates, something the Ascendancy does not do. They are defensive. Fire only after they have been fired upon. “It is a pre-emptive strike and that is not the Chiss way.” She studies the datapad and sets it down evenly at her desk.

Mitth’raw stood at attention.

“The Aristocra wants me to exile you. But House Nuruodo forbade it. Therefore, you are to go to Redoubt Cluster installation and serve out the rest of your duty there, Commander.” She throws his orders toward him on a fobchip.

Mitth’raw nods and awaits to leave.

“Dismissed.” Admiral Ar’alani turns away from him and returns to her work. Out of distance, she places her hands over her eyes and sighs.

 

***

 

Mitth’raw sits alone at the commissary, as he pushes his purple like algae concoction food from one side of the dish to the other. The table is smooth, cold, much like the Csillan polar ice caps. The walls are sterile white and metal gray. The floor is vinyl black. He takes a bite out of flesh-protein, and chews. No taste. No seasoning. No flavor. No juice. Nothing to savor. Like eating an organic processed machine. The walls have large screens that show Chiss Ascendancy approved mantras that zip across the screen and then transition to another for happy thought motivations. Thoughts that promote no passion or zeal for life. No vigor. No happiness. In Mitth'raw's mind all they promote is despair. Mitth’raw bends his eating utensil in anger, not for his punishment, but how much rage he feels building up and burns his neck. He calms himself to avoid the biosenory heatcams, and blinks for a moment, then goes into a blank stare as his body absorbs the frustration and the squander of his military talents. The Redoubt Cluster installation saw no military action besides an occasional meteor sling by with gravity clusters. It was worse than watching stupid fake memes scroll across the screens and call it artistic motivation. He wants more answers to what he really saw after the Vagaari ship explosion. Like why did the Vagaari suddenly have larger ships that seem to “breathe”? But he swallows the dried masticated flesh-protein as it tumbles down his throat and sinks to the pit of his stomach when his brother, Mitth’ras and his friends jumps into the bench table to meet him.

“Hiya Raw, we were just going over the court proceedings today that will declare that the Csillian Climate Ice Age claim by the Decadents was a hoax.” Mitth’ras speaks then rattles off to his two friends.

“Ras. I must speak to you alone. Tell your friends to leave, now.”

Mitth’ras stares at his brother. His brother’s pupils dilate and he looks to his friends and begs them to leave. They haw, but pick up their datapads to take off with their goodbyes to Mitth'ras. “Dammit Raw, you don’t have to be so cruel. No wonder you don’t have friends.”

Mitth’raw overlooks his brother’s chide and stares. “Mitth’ras’safis, I am being ordered to the Redoubt Cluster installation for the CEDF.”

“What? Why? See I told you about your aggressiveness. Didn’t I? I told you it was not the Ascendancy way -- right way.”

“I leave tonight. In three hours, to be exact.”

It dawns on Mitth’ras he may never see his brother again. “Raw, you promised Mom and Dad that you would take care of me. That we would still be a family. You promised.”

“And now you are an adult, now. You can take care of yourself.”

“Raw!”

“Please, Ras, not here. You know that is improper. The Ascendancy does not like it when we act like natural born blood brothers. There is no such thing as that here.”

“There’s no such thing as that anywhere in the Ascendancy.”

“Ras, there is. Just like what we had with Mom, Dad and Amt. I will find it, again. When I do, we will have a family again.” Mitth’raw smiles in earnest. It was a small smile, but he could see his brother’s eyes light when he said it. Mitth’raw misses his family. His parents. Amt the Killik. The warmth of the Csillan equator. The Redoubt Cluster with their asteroids may be cold, but the signal transmissions and receipt of outer Chiss space transmissions is very stronger from the Redoubt, than Csilla. From there he could leave the safety of Chiss space by holotransmission, and explore the galaxy for warmer climates. It has always been a desire of his. The Chiss Ascendancy has no desire for personal enrichment. No personal wealth. No independent scientific inquiries. The Chiss Ascendancy believes in groupthink, not someone who may not enhance your personal well-being. The Ascendancy is xenophobic. Mitth’raw hates the xenophobia. He would take his punishment and be forced to serve at Redoubt, but it will be his way to no longer be a part of the Chiss Ascendancy, or at least the Aristocra, while still serving his people as his mother asked him to do. The Aristocra were too petulant, and he would find his success elsewhere to show them, and his people a new way. Not a way of isolation and antiquated order without evolution. But a way that expands the universe.


	3. Interlude: THRAWN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Direct from [Thrawn](http://astore.amazon.com/thrawn-20/detail/B01ILZO30S) novel by Timothy Zahn: bit.ly/ThrawnStarWars

> _All beings begin their lives with hopes and aspirations. Among these aspirations is the desire that there will be a straight path to those goals. It is seldom so. Perhaps never. Sometimes the turns are of one’s own volition, as one’s thoughts and goals change over time. But more often the turns are mandated by outside forces. It was so with me. The memory is vivid, unsullied by age: the five admirals rising from their chairs as I am escorted into the chamber. The decision of the Ascendancy has been made, and they are here to deliver it. None of them is happy with the decision. I can read that in their faces. But they are officers and servants of the Chiss, and they will carry out their orders. Protocol alone demands that. The word is as I expected. Exile. The planet has already been chosen. The admirals will assemble the equipment necessary to ensure that solitude does not quickly become death from predators or the elements. I am led away. Once again, my path has turned. Where it will lead, I cannot say._
> 
> _[Thrawn](http://bit.ly/ThrawnStarWars) _


	4. Mandalorian Explosive Artist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cadet Sabine Wren practices. Not weapons chemistry and development. Not new tools for combat. But art. She expresses her art, as a Mandalorian girl with a "traitorous past" by trying to develop color in her explosive detonators. But this time, she blows up her lab. A blue man saves her, and Imperial Admiral who finds it hilarious as to what it is she is doing - creating art through war and combat. Her classmates rage on her because Sabine has no idea who just saved her.

Sabine Wren mixes her color combination with her explosives for chemistry class. She carefully measures the colors in their beaker, then slowly adds the precisely weighed explosives into her thermal detonator sized bomb. She looks at each of volumes and metrics behind a thick shield with custom goggles she created. Her nitrile gloves cover her naked hands to not have any explosive residue on her or when she lights the bomb or her hands would burn, too.

It was her final examination. Weapons manufacturing. Her weapons were her personal calling card. Like a hunter. Stormtroopers could use them. Her Imperial Academy committee allowed her to play with explosives and add color to strike fear into the hearts that oppose the Empire. But, the mixing of the elements failed to work. In fact, all her experiments were failures. Daily, she read and wrote to understand why her experiments failed. Daily, she would come to the lab and start her experiments over. Daily, the other students teased her and her silly idea of blow colors in the sky with bombs like fireworks. Nevertheless, seeing her fail, was entertainment. How long would her committee permit her to fail? Only she knew.

One more slight crank into the bomb safe device and light the fuse…

BLAAAMMMMM!

A loud sound rocks the building. Sabine looks at the shrapnel detonator as a classmate, Nekarta Fianmax shouts. “It blew up, but no color!”

As Sabine calls for the lift, the color splats across her white lab coat in a straight spray pattern. “NO! It is supposed to be purple, cyan and then magenta. Not yellow!” She slumps the side and puts her head down, as she tries to think where did she go wrong.

“Hey Sabine, you know tomorrow is the last day to work on your project before your grade.” Nikarta Fianmax responds.

“Yeah, you know, you keep getting explosive around here, you’ll blow up the entire building.” Ashur Fianmax, her twin brother, flatly states.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…Thanks I know.” Sabine replies with bitter sarcasm with two students whose project is to make better Mandalorian Ale. She mumbles to herself. “Like that’s hard.”

She places the barrier between her and the work area, and detonates a back up bomb. The fuse lit, then fizzles out as colored smoke emits from the casing. In frustration, she hits the barrier with her fist and looks around to see everyone has left the lab, including the monitoring droids. She thinks for a moment and quickly grabs her lab datapad and scrolls through her various designs. She rings up another design and sets them side by side on a holoprojection. She smiles and quickly assembles a new creation for a test.

Sabine carefully places the detonator behind the ray shield and waits for the countdown with her goggles on. She hears the 3…2…1… Detonation and a loud boom as she is thrown to the back of the lab near the door. Just as an entourage of Imperial Officers dignitaries walk by to watch the class.

The glass windows shatter and many hit the decks and run for cover to avoid the glass. They cower in tearful cries, except one officer that crawls through the shards of glass and enters the room to retrieve Sabine. Her sight blurry to see who grabs her as he hands her a handkerchief. She sits in resignation with her failed experiment of  _explosive art_.

“I failed.” She sighs. “I missed the color.” Her vision corrects when she sees cerulean complexioned hands and travels up into his face red-in-red eyes. This man is a Chiss. The first she has ever seen.

His eyes wrinkle on it sides as he slightly smiles and she wipes the paint from her face with his handkerchief. “Oh, I think your artistry is sufficient in destroying an entire laboratory.”

Her eyes widened wildly as she heard his soft soothing voice and grabs his elbows tightly to rise. “But did you see my explosion--” Then she realizes his rank and drops her hands to her side. “I-I am sorry sir, I did not mean to offend you. You may have me arrested for…whatever.” Her jig was up. Lab destruction, overuse of controlled explosives, all for an art project.

Stormtroopers rush into the area and grab the Admiral, as they leave her. He wrestles their arms from him and straightens his attire. With a commanding voice he orders them. “Take our little saboteur to my office so that I may interrogate her, fully.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” They grab Sabine by the forearms and drag her from the room down the hall.

The Admiral casually strolls out and meets the others. Governor Pryce, Gar and Tiber Saxon, and Grand Moff Tarkin.

Governor Pryce chuckles at the Admiral’s formality. “I say there, Thrawn, you would think that the little pleb destroyed a Star Destroyer with her toy experiment.”

“Never put that beyond a possibility, Governor. Always keep your eyes on the ones that go beyond what you teach them.” Thrawn looks into the eyes of Gar Saxon and his brother Tiber.

“Admiral, you must know, the problems we had on Mandalore and this sector are completely over. There is no uprising here. We are proud members of the Empire.” Tiber Saxon dryly replies.

“The Jedi did not think the problems of the Separatists were over. Let’s make sure there never will be another these uncouth ruffian uprising, Clan Saxon.” Grand Moff Tarkin spoke casually with a slight nasal air to his tone.

Between Tarkin and Thrawn, they mutually agreed on everything about military power with few exceptions. If Thrawn was human with a light complexion and born on one of the core planets, like Carida, he probably be an adviser to Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader. Pity. Thrawn is part of the legendary Chiss and for some reason, Palpatine and Vader who are Sith Lords tend to trust them to do their strategic and tactical military jobs, which the core had no desired to involve themselves.

Thrawn plainly announces. "To see the first test of our might in this sector, I reach out to the smallest and most insignificant in the Empire, such as this Mandalorian cadet."

Tarkin chuckles from his announcement as Governor Pryce crosses her arms and stays silent.

Gar Saxon walks behind as he mumbles. "This deal keeps getting worse every time."

Several sounds like tiny alarms ring on Thrawn’s wrist device and he stops the tour by the Saxon Clan and gives notice to Grand Moff Tarkin and Governor Pryce. “Duty calls.”

 

***

  

Thrawn takes off swiftly to his ship with a couple of stormtroopers. He walks down the ship's corridor to the interrogation room and keys his code to enter. The Mandalorian cadet sits quietly cold in the room. He grins widely and picks up the datapad and scrolls through Sabine’s data file. “I must say, it is not often I meet an artist on my tours throughout the galaxy. But you, Mandalorian, astound me with your creative genius.”

Sabine looks up at his red-in-red eyes in childlike fear in her tiny 14 year old body. “Am I to be punished?”

Thrawn’s left brow rises as he follows her logic to that conclusion. “Do you require a vacation?" She failed to get Thrawn's joke and remained silent. "Have you considered what you will do after you graduate? Join Gar Saxon traitorous band of Imperial Commandos that fail to serve the Empire, Mandalore or your people?” He chuckles from his inability to complete his sentence without his sarcasm.

For Sabine, Gar Saxon sickens her stomach. He had her clan, Clan Wren as hostages. Her service to the Empire is the price she pays to keep her clan alive. But her brows furrow as she hears Thrawn's questions and his kind tone. “Chissese, what do you want from me? You either punish me or you kill me. You can make up any story you want.”

Thrawn studies the paint splotches on both her hands with explosive residue. “Did your family teach you how to paint?”

Sabine haws rolling her eyes and leans in her chair to widen her legs like a 14 year old girl, then thinks better of it and closes them as she sits more -- ladylike.

Thrawn closes his eyes at her quick frustration. Then he narrows his eyes to razor and his enunciates his words to make sure she heard his words. “I am too old for you, cadet and I only am interested in your art. Call it a personal passion of mine. You graduate from the academy for career advancement and serve in a starting officer position under my command, you will be the best at what you do, including all your artistic endeavors.”

“Exchange my art for my service to be under your command after graduation?” She searches. “I’m sorry Admiral Thrawn, I can’t do that. You see…” She pauses to search for the right words. “That was my senior project and I basically failed. And from what I understand, I’m going to be out in the field, not on a ship, or Star Destroyer. That’s not me. Special Forces is me. Pulling people in and out in hairy situations. Get it? Understand?”

“And you created thermal detonators that spew color to leave your mark?” Thrawn smiles at the whole idea. “You share some safety on a Star Destroyer more than on the ground. But an armored military stormtrooper? I do not see that." He shifts his position. "What I see is an artist that is a Mandalorian with quite a few wild ideas to leave her mark on her enemies. Question is, who are your enemies?”

“The Rebels!” She speaks proudly to give him what he wants to hear.

He frowns and rises and walks around his office. “No. They are disorganized and lack unity. The Empire is held together only by order and unity among all of its Galactic citizens and that is why we are here. One major group that brings this chaos are the Jedi. But it is not the Jedi that are the problem, they are just the arbiters. It is other very serious threats. Threats far-outside this galaxy and the Force.”

Her brow bends from confusion. The word "Jedi" was not ever spoken Mandalore. None of her teachers ever told her it was because of disunity and chaos that the Empire fought. Her reading had no information on them. She sits quietly and watches him move about his office. Only 14 years old and he seems to appreciate her and her intelligence. But she did not want to continue the charade and promise him she would join his crew. “Admiral, sir, I like short operations that deal with ground attacks.”

He smiles proudly and places his hand on her tiny shoulder. “You will make a fine general, someday, then.” He sits at his desk and inputs a few strings in his datapad. “There. Having spoken to you, cadet. I have delayed your sanctions contingent upon your service with Grand Moff Tarkin’s troops on Lothal. You will report to him within a month after your graduation. And, oh, I approved your thesis. So, you see, in the Empire, we take care of our own.”

Her eyes widen and looks at the datapad as she scrolls through the fine print. “I want a flimsi of this meeting.”

Thrawn grins and leans back in his chair. “This meeting is off the record and contingent upon your agreement to serve under the leadership that I have selected for you.”

“And if I don’t?” That is where the Empire roils her. Imperial officers are well known for their duplicity. Something she knew Gar and Tiber Saxon desire to be the most and it made her sick. But, no one listens to a young teenage girl to fix it. 

“Then you will flunk out of the academy and confirm to everyone who knows about you to be true: Mandalorians can never be civilized. But even I know that is not true. You’re an artist and not really a Mandalorian.” His voice broke when he said it.

Sabine stood there for a long time. If she did not sign the datapad, she would be expelled and shamed from her people and her family alienates her. If she signs it, it would go against everything the Mandalorian Warrior Codes taught her by the elders and the injustices they fight. She looks at Thrawn in his eyes as if the redness pleads with her to stay. She presses her lips as her hand shakes to give the pad back to him, unsigned.

He quickly grabs her tiny hand and holds it tightly. Her cold hand to his huge warm and slightly balmy touch sparks both them to stare into each other's eyes as if there is something familiar between them. He desires to tell her she is throwing her life away and that she is his first student to throw her life away before they start. He wants to save this child from her track record of failure. Not her parent. He knows he would not win in a standoff against a wily Mandalorian. Then he realizes his panting.

She snatches her hands from him as she shakes her head in shock. “Admiral, I’ve made my decision. If I’m under arrest, then I am ready to leave your office.”

“Right.” He presses the button and the two Stormtroopers enter. “Escort Cadet Wren to her domicile.”

Sabine stares at Thrawn dumbfounded as she turns away from her stormtrooper escort. One last glimpse at him as she notices his strange look pleading for her to stay. She jerks from the stormtroopers and runs to him to hug his waist for 10 seconds. “Vor entye for trying to help me, Admiral Thrawn.”

She runs back to the stormtroopers who escort her back to her domicile.

His mouth drops stunned by her sudden affection. He wants to grin, but refrains. As soon as she leaves, he looks at the datapad at what she left off on the fine print. He reviews it:

  

 

> _IMPERIAL ACADEMY CADETS MAY BE GRADUATED BY A HIGH-LEVEL IMPERIAL OFFICERS FOR SPECIAL TALENTS AND DUTIES, NOT COMMENSURATE WITH NORMAL SERVICE UNDER THE COMMAND BY AFFIXING ONE'S APPROVAL._

 

Thrawn grins having overlooked that tiny loophole. He just had to sign off on the list to allow her to graduate. He approves her project and her talent and even though Thrawn operates by the book, art made him passionate about life. A great private joy in his military career. The Chiss trained him to appreciate military precision. Taught him strategy and tactics, and an artful task to see in daily operation. To him, Mandalorians were just as good in battle tactics, strategies and many military forms, but they lack galactic strategy as it their culture never accustom to the larger role in the galaxy. Mandalorians, like the Chiss, were xenophobes that live confined to their space. To fight them would be an honor, but their starships were ancient constructions. However, on the ground in battle to have Mandalorians might be worth it. He ponders these issues as he signs off on Sabine Wren’s project and thinks aloud. “But, Chiss have order and Mandalorians are too stochastic in battle.”

 

 ***

 

Sabine Wren wakes at the sound of her alert from chronometer. As she gets ready to face her professors at the Imperial Academy on Mandalore, she realizes she was not wrong in her hypothesis. “The color adjuvant can be added to the explosive main chamber.” She rises with a huge grin and quickly puts on her clean formal uniform as she skips to her hearing.

Classmates, Nekarta and Azhur Fianmax who serve under Clan Saxon, slide next to Sabine walking to her meeting to gloat over her failure.

Nekarta snips. “Well, I guess you might get a pass on your project since the Admiral saved you.”

Azhur chimes. “Yeah, you did blow up the lab and all, but having the Admiral save you, is like instant forgiveness.”

Sabine frowns in confusion. “What do you mean? I am sure I’m expelled.”

“Oh Sabine. How stupid can you be?” Nekarta that was not Mandalorian and knows nothing about Mandalore in how she tosses her head about while speaking. “When the only Chiss Admiral in the entire galaxy risks your pathetic life for a chemistry experiment gone wrong, it is a big deal.”

“What does him being a Chiss have to do with it?”

“Sabine, do you even know who Admiral Thrawn is?” Azhur says in shock.

“No?” She stares as she shifts her gaze between them both. “Should I know him?”

In unison. “Yes!”

“Sorry. I have never met a Chiss before and I do not know him. But he seems very kind and was very cordial to me. He had great manners.”

“My maker Sabine? He spoke to you?” Nekarta blurts.

“Yes. What is the big deal?”

“Maker Sabine, that is a huge deal. An Admiral of the 7th fleet helps you and you don’t know who he is?” Nekarta sneers. “I bet you refused his assistance after he asked you to serve under his command, huh?”

“Well, yes. I did. I did not deserve it and I want do not want it. I want to serve in the field and--”

Nekarta interrupts. “Ugh, you totally sicken me, Sabine. His fleet is one of the hardest to get assigned to, and you just say no. Such a dykoot.” Nekarta’s poor attempt at speaking Mando’a to Sabine, fluent in several languages.

“Shut it Nekarta! You are just like your name, NO HEART!” Sabine retorts. “I am not obligated to him or anyone in the Empire, except the simple oath I made. If I was a sycophant like you with no demerits, I would be like you in how I had to sleep my way to the top!” Sabine stomps away to not hit this girl. Nekarta probably could not fight at all. Underneath her breath, she speaks. “Hut’tuun.” It means “coward” and most of cadets were cowards and did not comprehend war. Sabine becomes queasy as she thinks about this fact and enters her Expulsion Tribunal.


	5. Establishing the Chain of Command

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When an officer starts a new commission, it is always prudent to develop a new chain of command.

**_Canon Background from the novel[Thrawn](http://bit.ly/ThrawnStarWars)_ **

> _ “Governor Pryce, a word with you in private, if I may,” Thrawn said. _
> 
> _ Vanto and Yularen exchanged glances. But they collected their data cards and left the conference room without further comment.  _
> 
> _ “A question, Admiral?” Pryce asked when the other were gone… _
> 
> _ “A statement, Governor,” Thrawn corrected. _
> 
> _ “No.” _
> 
> _ “Excuse me?” _
> 
> _ “That’s not how you bring an accusation against a power member of the Imperial government,” she said. “For all your tactical skill, Admiral, you still don’t know the first thing about dealing with politicians.” _
> 
> _ “Do I not?” _
> 
> _ “You do not,” Pryce said… “Your entire career has been one of military triumphs and political bumps, and every one of those bumps has required someone with political skill to get you out of it.” _
> 
> _ …”Let’s lay our cards. Or rather, I’ll lay out my cards, since you’re not the card-playing sort. You clearly suspect me of knowing more than I’ve said about what happened on Batonn. Fine. Suspect all you want. But don’t lose track of the fact that you need me.” _
> 
> _ “In what way?” _
> 
> _ “To smooth out your future political bumps,” she said. “And trust me: There will be more bumps. You’re a successful admiral. That makes you a target for people who want to siphon off some of your power for themselves.” _
> 
> _ “People such as you?” _
> 
> _ She smiled again… “At least you’ve learned some political lessons. But no, I don’t want to take your power away. I merely want to direct it along a line that will do us both the most good.” _
> 
> _ “Such as?” _
> 
> _ “The face is that I have something of an insurgent situation on Lothal,” she said…”I wanted make my world the Outer Rim’s best and finest source of high-grade metals, as well as the premier manufacturing and military center for the sector. In the process, I may have pushed the locals a bit too hard. Regardless of the cause, we have a problem, and Admrial Konstantine has been less than effective in dealing with it.” _
> 
> _ “You’ve spoken to the High Command?” _
> 
> _ “The High Command has a lot of hot spots to deal with right now.”...”With more popping up everyday, I’ve had some discussions with Grand Moff Tarkin, and he isn’t any happier about the situation than I am. He’s especially not happy that our local rebels are starting to take their brand of annoyance to other places in the region. He’s made it clear that I need to find a solution.” _
> 
> _ “Have you?” _
> 
> _ “Yes,” she said. “You.” _
> 
> _ “And what would my benefit be?” _
> 
> _ “I already detailed one of those benefits,” Pryce said. “If you don’t think my political guidance is enough value, then consider the gain to your prestige from another victory or two. That’s all Coruscant values, you know: results...My sources tell me that Fleet Admiral Sartan of the Seventh Fleet is going to be replaced soon. Batonn is just the kind of victory that could put you in line for that command.” _
> 
> _ “I am content with the Ninety-Sixth Task Force.” _
> 
> _ “You’d be more content with the Seventh Fleet,” Pryce retorted…”On last card, a card I know you care about. The Seventh Fleet carries a lot of firepower. It’s sent to major conflicts, where there are powerful and desperate enemies. If you don’t command it, someone else will. Do you think there’s anyone else in the Imperial Navy who cares as much as you do about limiting casualties?” _
> 
> _ “You make interesting points,” Thrawn said. “I will consider your proposal.” _
> 
> _ “Do that...In the meantime, go have your meeting with the Emperor. Smile and thank him for whatever accolades or trinkets he heaps on you...Who knows? He might make you are grand admiral. The point is, get through it, and we’ll see each other soon.” _
> 
> _ “We may indeed,” Thrawn said. “Farewell, Governor. Safe Journey.” _

  
  


***

 

Thrawn’s flight back from Coruscant, the inspection of the Seventh Fleet with his new rank, Grand Admiral is part of his routine. The firepower of the Seventh Fleet is less than what Governor Pryce purports, but there are solutions to all problems. His mind dwells on Commander, Eli Vanto and his “cultural attache” to Chiss Space with his Admiral Ar’alani. To keep his safe, away from an insurgency. Along the way toward his Imperial Star Destroyer, he decides to customize his hull to that of his family’s crest, a Chimaera, a two-headed snake with tentacles like a hydra that crawl to port.  He needs his crew ready to fight for the Empire, for the Emperor, for Darth Vader and for him. There were many lapse in basic naval tactics that require remediation. Fortunately, his old crew from the Ninety-Sixth put in for a transfer into the Seventh Fleet to teach the new crew how he operates as the first non-human to command an entire Imperial fleet. Those in the Seventh who refused Thrawn’s command, were quickly reassigned, but to jobs not on the battlefront, most like drudge jobs on Outer Rim planets checking for the best insect repellent.

Thrawn had a secret inspection of the incomplete Death Star build. He submitted his report to both the Emperor and Darth Vader since they asked him his observations. How Director Orson Krennic is given such oversight for not being in military combat is not Thrawn’s concern. He mulls how many infractions are made on a daily basis with enslaved aliens that assemble this monstrous battlestation behemoth.  But, fortunately, it is not his problem. His problem is to return to Lothalian space to deal with Rebel insurgents in that sector. 

Thrawn also has a secret task upon the Emperor’s request -- a painting that doubles as a map, which leads to an entire fleet of Rugess Nome the Bith Ship Builder and by some holocommunique that Thrawn conjures up, Nome was a Sith Lord, named Darth Tenebrous roughly 100-200 years prior to the Empire. Allegedly, these ships are response in the Force and can be reverse-engineered to updated technology by Sienar Systems Aeronautics. If so, Thrawn’s plans to improve the engineering of TIE Defender can be put in play on Lothal.

But that means managing Governor Arihnda Pryce again who Grand Admiral Thrawn suspect she wants more than to be his personal political advisor. She stops short of brandishing her human femininity that he can actually smell. Its foul stench ranks his olfactory systems. His strong genetic constitution allows him to hide his disgust. He has not met many human women he finds appealing. Human men are more appealing for brief encounters, but fooling around in the ranks disrupts the Empire’s primary mission to bring the galaxy under its control to protect it from outside threats. He recites the agreed code that corresponds to his Chiss training:

> _ The standard for what constitutes an inappropriate leader-subordinate relationship hasn't changed in the new GR 600-20 4-14b which states, relationships, (both opposite-gender and same-gender) are prohibited if they: -- Compromise, or appear to compromise, the integrity of supervisory authority or the chain of command; -- Cause actual or perceived partiality or unfairness; -- Involve, or appear to involve, the improper use of rank or position for personal gain; -- Are, or are perceived to be, exploitative or coercive in nature; -- Create an actual or clearly predictable adverse impact on discipline, authority, morale or the ability of the command to accomplish its mission. _
> 
>  

Even a situation with Governor Pryce elicits an inappropriate relationship within the Imperial government, and Pryce must honor that boundary. However, the Outer Rim is less refined that the Core. Acumen is lax and diplomacy is about “aggressive negotiations”. Thrawn rubs his forehead and his chin to process all these thoughts, and then is dawns him about his profound loneliness. His memories of Jorj Car’das flow through his mind and all the plans they made together until Jorj got sick with an aggressive cancer and within 49 planetary rotations, he is pronounced dead.

Thrawn threw back his datapad on the side on his desk in his ready room aboard the Chimaera. Memories of Jorj had not surfaced since his arrival on Coruscant. His profound loneliness never impacted him until now, and why? A new journey in his military career? What would it hold? Anxiety, which was a new emotion that contagion with humans usually pass on to near-human aliens, such as the Chiss. Had he adopted too many human foibles? He exhales to move through this tiff, when his hologram appears announcing a guest aboard his ship.

“I will allow it.” Thrawn commands to his security Deathtroopers.

Enter, Governor Arinhda Pryce in a neat gray Imperial uniform that is form-fitting, purposefully and those deep blue eyes of hers piercing at Thrawn. His stomach curdles from his last meal as it wants to return to his esophagus and out his mouth, if peristalsis  operates by that mechanism. Her light whiny voice greets him.  “Welcome, Grand Admiral, I see you are coming along with the Seventh fleet, very nicely.”

Thrawn that it best to leave conversations with her in the vague mundane. “Thank you, Governor Pryce.”

She smiles with an heir of haughtiness. “You have the data I sent to your ship on Lothal and several outlying planets? I hope they were useful.” She strolls to him with more datacards in her hand to show her hand to not have given him everything while he requested it.

“Yes, I’ve reviewed them all.”

“Good, Grand Admiral, the Rebels have shipping lanes along these routes,” She raises a holographic star map.

Thrawn quickly interrupts her. “Have you identified them or a possible a base of operations?”

Clueless in her answer. “No, we think they’re nomadic and hire mercenaries or smugglers to assist them. There’s no real threat to the great Lothal Center plans we have in mind, Thrawn.” She forgot his rank as a sign of disrespect. She forgot the chain of command. “You need to go block them immediately.” Pryce concludes in her orders to him.

“No.”

“What do you mean? Your mission is to stop the Rebel insurgency on Loth--”

“No, my mission is to find adequate uses for Lothal as a manufacturing base for the Empire, which is under fire of meager Rebel intrusion and to eliminate that threat, and not just in this sector, Governor.” More than what he wanted to tell her, but obviously, Pryce imagines she can recklessly rule over him and his fleet that is being fully upgraded with the complete armaments. “Lothal is not the only planet under Imperial Navy protection in the Empire, Governor.”

Governor Pryce, comes within a breath of his personal space. “Grand Admiral, what do I have to do to convince you that working with me is in your own best interests?”

Thrawn maneuvers around her behind his desk, standing holding his hand out to the seat across his desk. “Sit, Governor, please.”

She seductively sits and crosses her legs, batting her eyes with a smile. “You know, I’ve missed you while you were gone. Such exciting adventures we had.”

“Governor Pryce, I need you to compose yourself. I do not know what you think it is you and I had, but I am not attracted to you in any way. Right now, I have a duty to the Empire and my goal is to fulfill my mission, as stated clearly in our holodocs. Let me send you another in case you do not have one.”  His red-in-red eyes bore into to hers like a fierce predatory animal. He has never had to make this kind of command since he was a cadet in House Nuruodo when his brother, Mitth’ras’safis or Thrass was bullied. A deadly mistake on the bullies part.

Governor Pryce straightens up and leans back fearful. “Grand Admiral, I’m sorry. I thought we were a team, a power-couple on the Outer Rim.” She states lightly and evenly.

Whatever rage that roils Thrawn, it could not be seen on his face except him clenching his jaw for a second.  “I’m surprised you could think that far in advance.” The cruelty of Thrawn statement stung her into horror, but it starts to be the norm since his rise in rank to Grand Admiral. He places his fingertips on each other as he raised his hands to a triangular temple. “I will need TIE Defenders built on Lothal, I’ve identified the field locations and all the resources I require are in transit as we speak. Your people will build them. And if they don’t, I will find new ways to motivate them.” 

He stands. “Each of your assigned military detail requires my evaluation per the Emperor’s, Lord Vader’s and Grand Moff Tarkin’s request. I am to evaluate and assess the technical skills of these officers for combat and determine the extent of this Rebel threat you claim to have on Lothal.”

“CLAIM to have?” Cried Governor Pryce.

“Yes, claim to have, Governor Pryce. I have seen no indication of blockades in transports to Lothal. It seems your planetary defense and security is lax. There is no civilian data on your planet, such as, who are your rich, business owners, or classes? Far as I know, Governor, you too could be part of this Rebel incursion with all the rumors.”

“What? Thrawn! But, you know me…”

He points his finger at her. “You remember your last diatribe that you confidently shared with me? That you know better how to work with politicians better than me? That I was ignorant of the way things work in government?” He mocks her, and then flashes a grin as he watches her squirm. “Then you salaciously flirt with me, like I’m your plaything or toy to order about--as if you do the same to Konstantine.” He watches her. “Oh...you do…”

“No! That’s not true. Thra--I mean, Grand Admiral, you’re scaring me.”

“Stop it with this damsel in distress, you don’t GET to do that. Lord Vader himself was present on your planet and stated there were only 4-6 Rebel insurgents. That your Minister Tua was culpable in the Rebel attacks and she was a minister you placed until they killed her. And that an Ithorian bartender sold secrets to these Rebels to sabotage our Imperial efforts on Empire Day, which gets the Grand Inquisitor killed.” Thrawn shakes head in disgust. “Please, lie to me again and I’ll kill you myself.”

Tears flow from Pryce’s eyes hurt by the bulk of information that Thrawn threw at her and hide from him until he requested it specifically. She had not considered there were other intelligence reports. She pleads. “I will never lie to you again, Grand Admiral. If you can find a way to forgive me. Please.”

Thrawn finds a greasy towel and throws it at her with revulsion from her phony sensitivity. “Now, go to the refresher and get yourself cleaned up. We have a meeting in a few minutes to meet your inept officers with Governor Tarkin holo-ing in.” He grabs her datapad and his. “You’re taking notes. You want to be my aide, prove it to me.” He exits as he alerts the guards to watch her.

Governor Pryce chases after him after he cleans up and rides the elevator reticent of how stony-hearted he had become.


	6. Prelude to the Art Auction/Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rebels must prepare to steal the _Visage Presage_ painting by Jaynor of Bith. They set their traps, then hope for the best.

Hera Syndulla, the pilot of her modified CEC YT-1200 starship, Ghost flies the crew into Lothal under stealth signals. The plan is to attend an art auction and for a painting heist, a priceless painting, from an artist, Jaynor of Bith. “Everyone, this is the  _Visage Presage_  by Jaynor of Bith. It is a priceless painting. Our contacts at Black Sun said if we get this painting for them, then we can finance the entire Rebel cause with ships and fleets and...” Sensors monitors sound. "We meeting Lando Calrissian who planned this heist."

In his young kid thoughts, Ezra Bridger speaks. “What’s so big about a painting?”

Sabine Wren searches for information on her datapad. “The paint is strange. It's like the pigment and resin are living?” Then a holovid appears that involves a [commercial. “What this?”](https://youtu.be/i2FuD22_-w8)

Hera sits near her and watches. “What this?”

“A commercial from 100 rotations ago on the HoloNet, and I found more about the painting's contents. Bizarre.”

Ezra pushes up to Sabine eagerly to see. “What’s it about?”

“The commercial seems to be about some guy name Rugess Nome and his custom-made ships,” Sabine shakes her head in confusion.

“Well, at least we have a holo to watch,” Hera smiles. “Great research Sabine.”

“Who is Rugess Nome?” Ezra asks innocently.

“I don’t know? But the painting created by Jaynor of Bith is roughly 100 rotations ago. I really don’t see how this Rugess Nome is connected to this painting?” Sabine keeps searching for information on the HoloNet.

Ezra smarts off. “He’s probably no one.”

“Looks like we'll find out soon enough,” Hera interjects.

Sabine rises from the seat and grabs smoke bombs to plant in the location. “Ezra, we need to plant these party poppers for the auction.” She stuffs them into a satchel and she smiles. “Ezra, you grab the painting.”

Ezra he cracked his knuckles and smiles. “Sure thing.”

“I made fifty of them. They're distractors. Plenty of color and smoke mainly, no incineration.” She jumps on a speeder bike ready to go to the Lothal Main Hall where the auction is to be held. “C'mon Ezra!”

“I’m coming. This is where the fun begins.” He hops behind her.

“Don’t get fresh, it’s a job for the Rebels.”

Hera activates a holocom and sees a familiar face of a famed smuggler come from behind her. “Lando, this is your idea, you need to be here.”

As Sabine revs up the speeder bike, she shouts to Hera. “We’ll be back and I’ll be in my fancy outfit when Lando slithers over here.”

Ezra sly grin shouts. “I’m not wearing anything fancy. I hope that’s ok?”

“Yeah, right Ezra, you’re not going to the ‘ball’, what do you know about art?”

“I know that there is a painting, and you paint and, what else is there?”

Sabine rolls her eyes and takes off to the main hall where the auction is.

 

 ***

 

When they arrive, Sabine climbs down the roof to the rafters with Ezra behind her. “Good, you need to stay hidden. I'm thinking we place the poppers, here and there.” With lithe like precision she moves between the rafters setting the smoke bombs on special places when she sees them. “Oh look, Governor Pryce and her stormtroopers.”

Ezra peers over her shoulder and sees Commandant Covfe scramble behind Governor Pryce as he places the poppers in the rafters. “That’ll work. It looks pretty load-bearing.”

She hands more to Ezra and whispers. “Ok. We just place one, here!” She slips dust crumbs gently careen onto Pryce’s hair.

Ezra stops her from slipping through the Force and pulls her back. “Whoa, careful.”

Sabine did not feel his hand and turns to him. “Thanks.” She peers down to see if Pryce notices and silently grins when the Governor suspects nothing about her pile of crumbs on top of her head. “C'mon let's add the rest.”

Ezra looks at Sabine as he bites his lip and raises his brow. “Sure. But let’s try this instead. It is faster” he levitates the party poppers and places them on each beam, gently.

Sabine watches Ezra as her eyes widen with surprise at how strong he has become in the Force. “Ok. We need to get out of here. I got to get my ‘game-face’ on,” She rolls her eyes when a probedroid streaks by on routine patrol. “No!” She reaches for her pistol as she hates probedroids."

Ezra presses his hand on her hip when she grabs for her pistol. “Wait. We will be too loud. Probedroids have an automatic self-destruct. If I can trip that wire, we can escape and it will look like a malfunction.”

Sabine scoots closer to him. “Wait. How?”

With calm reassurance, Ezra closes his eyes and places his hand out to search through the droids internal mechanisms, and find the switch for self-destruct. “Just stay back and get ready to run,” he clips the wire through the Force, but the probedroid keeps moving with no alarm. “Blast, I can’t get it. Run!”

Sabine furrows her brow angrily and jumps atop the roof to get to speeder in a hurry. A nearby probedroid attempts to scan them, but she fires her pistol at its eye knocking it out of commission. “Still a dumdum droid.”

Ezra ran behind her apologetic as he pleads with her. “I’m sorry,” a blast whizzes past his head and he concentrates on the probedroid to try a Force crush it, like Kanan Jarrus has shown him previously.

Sabine finds the speeder bike, jumps on the front seat, and revs it up. “Let's get out of here before our plan here is discovered.” She shoots the electrical box to the kill all the building's lights and the entire block darkens. “That should keep them busy for a while.” She hears Commandant Covfe screaming over the comlink.

“Yeah, let’s get back to the Ghost.” Ezra a bit sullen that his powers are not strong as he thought when he needs them.

Sabine shouts to Ezra and turns away from the Ghost in a different direction. “Hold on!”  She set a few smoke bombs 10 blocks away that is no way near the Ghost with a smile to throw off the chasing speeder bike patrol Imperial Stormtroopers.

Ezra watches her precision. Her greatest aspect that does not require the Force and he realizes her actions for a distraction. “Good call, Sabine.”

She laughs. “They're going to be angry,” she slings through traffic hoping no one is chasing them.

“We're fine! Keep going.”

They finally arrive at the Ghost and jump off the speeder bike. “Well. Now we have our distractions and the Imperials are off chasing stray Lothcats.”

Hera crosses her arms in the messiness how young people could make matters worse. She looks at Lando Calrissian in frustration that he would risk them.

Lando gives a confident look at Ezra.“Just be ready to swing that saber if things get dicey. You ready, Sabine?” He snakes into his Stormtrooper armor from a guy he killed days ago. “How do I look?"

Everyone gives a thumbs down.

"Okay, Hera I know I have a debt to pay. It will be repaid. The market is hot for this one. Easy money.” He flashes a reassured confident smile.

Hera uncrosses her arms and ignores Lando, while she determines if the coast is clear. “Alright. Sabine, Ezra, are you ready for the operation?”

“We know where it is. I'll get it as soon as the lights go out.” Ezra speaks up for a long moment of awkward silence.

Lando announces. “Alright, Sabine. Let's make moves. They aren't going to make themselves. Wish us the Force everyone.”

Sabine huffs as she exits to her room on the Ghost and prepares. After a what seems a long time, she wears her formal attire for the auction. A formal length gown that Lando gave to her. “Lando, I hate this. What about this retrieval team you keep talking about?”

Ezra eyes bulge from Sabine transformation. “Wow! You look nice, Sabine!"

Hera smiles pleasantly as if Sabine left for her rites of passage and debut. She gives Sabine a strong hug to reassure she was stunning. “We do have a mission to do. Let's get that painting.”

“Thanks Hera,” as Sabine smiles then turns toward Lando with a glare. “We're leaving, and Ezra, Vor'e.” She walks to Lando’s borrowed old dented landspeeder.

“Hurry. I don't feel like running into any Imperials. I deal enough of them when I fly.” Hera frowns with a wave like a worried mother over her daughter that is going to prom, her first dance.

“I'm coming,” Ezra shouts as a last minute thought. “I need to escort Sabine, you know to keep her safe.”

“Ezra, you're staying with Hera?” Sabine looks up to Lando if Ezra would countermand her order, as he clunks in his Stormtrooper armor.

Lando stands proud. “Yes, Ezra you should stay with Hera. We need a small group for as much anonymity as possible.”

“Thank you, Ezra for keeping me company for this part of the mission,” Hera smiles as she wraps her arm around his shoulder. “You can help me look out for Imperials, when Lando and Sabine return, we can leave.”

Ezra sighs hopelessly as he watches Sabine’s lithe form in the landspeeder become a huge distance from him. His heart opines at the loss to devote his time to her and grow with her as kids to adults. He drops his head and looks at Hera who hugs him with a grin on her face to reassure him that one day it will work out for them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This section was completed in February, 2015. Lots of re-arrangements and changes had to come.


	7. Artistically Speaking It Was Mandalorian Done - The Adult Version

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the **ADULT VERSION** to [The Original Post](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6466003/chapters/14799829)

"An art auction!" Lando Calrissian flings his arms open-wide as he stalks into grand hall on the planet Canto Bight for its first Imperial formal and art auction. He wears bulky white plastoid stormtrooper armor. Whether a real stormtrooper died in it or he won it in a game of chance, it is the armor as his disguise for this event. The presence of stormtroopers are menacing to all those beings who cross his path. He carries his E-11 blaster in a ready-fire position. The Empire on Canto Bights have priceless trades in weapons and warships. People pay with whatever they can to ship to other systems throughout the galaxy. A planet of extremely rich people of culture and civilized with auctioning art pilfered art by Imperials who raided criminal and terrorist enclaves. 

Lando notices all the construction for starports going on and the real estate sales to have them, as he hears HoloNet News Reports on the Rebels and any smugglers. It is censored with lies. The Empire claims they have caught all the Rebels on Mokivj corridor and it will lead to opening new hyperspace lanes. He sees the Imperial ships land as their passengers exit with drab formal uniforms. They are drab black, gray or green in color -- the color of burnt metal, smoke and puke. He wonders if they knew how dirty they appear and how little class they have. Lando did better to be in a white Stormtrooper armor than those threads.

To take his mind off his churning stomach, he turns to watch his charge descend the steps. A young resplendent Mandalorian and her disguise is made to be beautiful by his design. Sabine Wren appears far from her routine colorful Mandalorian armor. In this posh place, she is unrecognizable. Lando grins underneath his stormtrooper helmet as she enters the hall. She strides with confidence across the entrance and he scans the torrential sea of Imperials who hob nob with pretentious politicians and wannabe dignitaries in the galaxy. They craft their insidious deals by leaning the ears of potential high command attendees, like Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin. His presence on a lascivious planet like Canto Bight for an art auction seems unquestionable. Both Lando and Sabine spot this phoniness with disgust, but they remain focused on their primary objective - locating the painting, Visage Presage by the painter, Jaynor of Bith.

Sabine clasps her hands below her stomach and pinches her thumbs at the spectacle. Then the majesty of the event hits her when several royals of core planets, like Scipio and Thrysus -- known enemies of Mandalore. She reaches for her side arm pistols, and realizes they are not there. She could not wear them in her formal gown. Lando told her she must be perfect for this event in order to pull off the objective. Lando whispers into Sabine's ear with his smooth baritone voice. "Stay cold. The goal is Visage Presage for a good cause, right?" 

She grips her thumbs tighter as she descends down the grand stairs as she mumbles - Quite the high-brow event for all these Imperials.

It is not her tiny foibles that would blow her cover. It is her dress. An unique experience for Sabine, entirely. The women wore muck gray-black formal military uniforms. The best that the Empire could provide for Imperials on Canto Bight. But, Sabine's dress -- no woman has pulled her style off. Its shape, its design and her being passed off as royalty, and then making it believable. A specific Lando Calrissian concoction. A milieu of designs he crafts together from different systems, which the Empire avoids and bans its Imperial officers due to morality and ethics violations.

Sabine's dress has gold sheer inlays with purple amethysts that dot throughout the dress. When she walks, the facets change the dress color as the light falls on the gemstones from different angles. A slit travels up her left leg slightly above her crotch. She walks in 16 centimeter sky high heels as her ready-made audience admires the tone of her legs. Then her hips sway as she strides that cause the light to sway from side-to-side. She sleeks by her admirers who follow her body line to her backside. Admirers fall over themselves as they pass Sabine. She is gorgeous, exotic, and new, fresh meat. Sabine innocent to their gaze and their machinations.

Then there is the crown-jewel of the dress.

The neckline exposes Sabine's well-endowed breasts. Her voluptuous cup peaks from the dress' bodice. Normally, Sabine hides her chest underneath her Mandalorian armor. An endowment and tone healthy bust, which usually no one ever sees, Sabine shows for this mission. In fact, body image meant nothing to her as taught by her Mandalorian culture, and while she likes her body, being feminine meant nothing to her. She never considered herself a woman, except every forty days during her usual menstruation. Mandalorian warriors are not taught these kinds of bodily functions. But when she wears this formal dress, she suddenly becomes acutely aware of her womanhood, and the Imperial gaze. Her gown is provocative. She has never worn a formal gown. Her crew never gave her a gown or dress to wear and she never thought to wear one, though having seen some Mandalorian women wear formal gowns on holovids. Their gowns were not like this and her gown or dress h life goal of hers. Haute couture, an obscurity to her. Lando had to teach her how to walk in high heeled shoes, and how to enter a room like royalty. While she felt strong in presentation, the audience's attention confused her. What was the big deal? Seems like the Imperials never saw a woman in a gown before?  

The neckline of the dress and her bust causes some admirers to stop mid-stride to sneak a peek. Then some would just stare and gawk. Some Imperials would stop to ask her simple questions, like where to get more gold champagne, and she replies innocently while she avoids their gaze. Her Imperial Academy education taught her to speak, intelligently. But during her academy days, she had the body of a 14 year old girl, not a grown woman’s body that she has now. Her gown is a grown woman’s gown with a color and a style that accentuates her womanly features and draws attention to her presence in the hall. Lando Calrissian beams with pride for his choice as it is one of many formals with Sabine he hopes to attend with her for future missions. The way she beguiles her audience with her huge eyes and youthful looks, the sexy formal gown is icing on a very scrumptious cake. It removes the attention from him and gives him the time to complete the objective: to grab the painting underneath the very noses of the Empire.

Sabine claws at her thumbs more, and then glares at Lando in his Stormtrooper armor as her upper lip quivers to a mumble. “I put on makeup and refreshed for this?” She felt a cold exposure from all the salacious gazes ready to pounce. "You know, Lando, I even had Chopper depilate my nether-regions, just like you told me for this silly event." Her cursing in Mandalorian causes her voice to rise while a few Imperials brows rise. She shirks into Lando as he scoots her around to view a famous art masterpiece. “Oh? So I guess, the Imperials appreciate art, now? Since they pilfer the art from conquered planets.” She coughs as her throat dries to sand noticing the art violation.

Lando sees the arrogance of the Imperials who prey on Sabine. He stands close to her to ease her nervousness. “Yes. Enjoy the art, my fair bird. You may never see some of these again. For instance, this lovely image.” It is a static hologram of many timepieces that shift across the eye line of the artwork like an optical illusion.

Sabine struggles to keep her voice low as she shakes her head. “That's no Jaynor. This art is holographic. I didn't know this was a multimedia show.”

Lando whispers into an earshot of Sabine as he nods at the other attendees in a stern voice. “Try not to make eye contact with these arrogant slatterns.” He shifts his blaster to protect Sabine from Imperial salivary desires to bite into her treasures. “Of course, there are several pieces for auction. What do you think of this one?”

Sabine turns to view the image as her eyes widen and she blushes with slight embarrassment. “'Dance in Water' by Ka-hui, the Mon Calamari erotica artist? What are the Imperials into these days?” It is a painting of a naked, colorful Calamari swimming in an ocean, playfully as the eye flows to its waters edges. "Pornography?"

Lando chuckles as he tilts his head of the dishabille of Mon Calamari. “Perhaps someone here has a heart for art as trophies from his or her destruction.” He crosses his arms as he is drawn into the shimmery forms in the painting. “I can't call it. I hear that the Empire scours systems they conquer for cultural art before completely destroying it.”

Sabine balks loudly. “You could say that, again!” The few people around her stop mid-sip of their champagne conversations as Sabine’s nervousness exposes her, again. She grabs a flute of champagne and imbibes it quickly to quell her nervousness.

Lando's concern for their cover elevates. Sabine is the decoy for this event, and it excites her to be there, but if she is going to freeze on him, this mission may need scrapping. He may have done his job too well by putting a beautiful young woman in a provocative gown that keeps all eyes on her, and fortunately not him. He grabs her elbow gently and leans into her ear to whisper sternly. “Thirsty?”

Sabine discovers her neckline is lower than her modesty allows. She wraps her arms across her chest in embarrassment as she whispers. “I'm nervous without my pistols.” She drops her hands and lifts of her torso for these admirers to get a good look. They blush when she caught their gaze. “Why don’t we separate and mingle with the others.” She stares into Lando’s eyes underneath his helmet.

Reluctantly, Lando agrees. “Alright, my dear. I will blend with the other stormtroopers to see if I can find where they've hidden this Bith painting.” He sees why her neckline and bust intoxicates the Imperials. He as well as the other Stormtroopers look at the sexy woman in the beautiful gown. He grins in admiration of her tenacity. It’s the dress.

Sabine oblivious to the admirers smiles grabs another champagne flute and sips demurely when she slightly trips in her heels. An Imperial ensign and lieutenant race to her to assist her in her mistake. “Thank you, clumsy me, all day.” I am such an idiot.

 

* * *

 

 

Grand Admiral Thrawn’s Imperial shuttle lands outside the hall on the platform reserved for high command dignitaries. A wave of Death Troopers speed out of the shuttle. Five Death Troopers align left and right with rifles across their chests, the passage almost ceremonial. Thrawn makes his way to the new Commandant Covfe who directs security. “I was expecting a welcome from you, or your security at least. There was no one.”

Commandant Covfe points at the minions in their final set ups for the event and yells at the stormtroopers slow pace. He tilts his head as he eyes the blueness of the Chiss skin on Thrawn with his Imperial badge. “Admiral. I see you’ve found your way here. Ready for the abundance of art?”

Thrawn narrows his red-in-red eyes at the utter disorganization. “Are you ready for the art show?” It was a question of how much Covfe knows about the Visage Presage as a priceless painting.

A rouse of applause comes from the hall because Grand Moff Tarkin enters. The nouveau-riche of Canto Bight race to take selfies with their miniature datapads. Two very attractive human women accompany him. He surveys the area and looks for his detail of Death troopers who surround him. His brow furrows as he mutters. “A security nightmare.” 

Thrawn searches the hall with his red-in-red eyes to identify all known targets and exits. Preparation for any violence should the Rebels decide to attack. His blue skin makes him stand out, unfortunately in the times of Imperial xenophobia and speciesism. He attempts to grab the attention of Tarkin with a look from his line of sight, and then, Tarkin raises his arm beckoning him to come over to his VIP area. A grand admiral is a ranked position in the military. A moff is an elected position. But Thrawn's politicking helps him play this human supremacy game as he salutes Tarkin, although it is not required.

Tarkin waves off the salutation and shakes with a strong grip Thrawn’s hand. “Grand Admiral Thrawn, the Emperor did not tell me of your arrival to Canto Bight. We would have had a parade to salute your latest victory on Atollah and Lord Vader. Is Governor Arinhda Pryce with you?”

“Governor Tarkin, the Emperor has allowed me to have some 'R and R'. I only serve at his will.” He nods in deference.

Covfe announces in a regretful tone. “Governor Pryce regrets her tardiness, Sirs.”

“I see. But, isn't this her show?” Tarkin's irritation in his voice and narrowing of his brow become prominent.

Covfe receives another call on his comlink and excuses himself from Tarkin's and Thrawn's presence. 

“Grand Moff Tarkin, will you be bidding on any of the art pieces?” Thrawn inquires with diplomacy.

“Me?” Tarkin balks. “No. Dull events such as these will never be on my homeworld, Eriadu. I came here to make sure everything runs smoothly, given this Rebel situation.”

“Ah, yes. Well, the Empire will prevail as we stand at the greatness of its leadership.” Thrawn’s diplomacy endears Tarkin to him, predictably. Other Imperials that surround them watch in amazement of Thrawn’s cool demeanor.

Covfe yells into his gauntlet comlink to ensure security with sternness. “Lyste? What? Confiscate the paintings? I don't think so. Where are Pryce’s people, this is their deal.”

Tarkin straightens his attire and prepares to leave as he glares at Covfe. “I’ve seen enough and I must bid you goodbye, Grand Admiral. Come ladies.”

Covfe who stands dumbfounded in shock, first by seeing Tarkin and Thrawn together in conversation, and then an abrupt exit by Tarkin.

Thrawn’s eyes light and shift from one person to the other with their unspoken exchange -- They know one another from a previous mission. Interesting.

Covfe shoulders fall when Tarkin leaves without an acknowledgement. Then a blue hand fell on his shoulder. Thrawn nods with a slight grin as he understands Covfe's sleight. He tilts his head with in return, and for a moment, he feels the camaraderie. But then, his xenophobic hatred roils inside him and blows him to jerk away to race back to his stormtroopers. Thrawn chuckles as he watches Covfe predictable actions - He squirms because he is a fearful, bigoted specieist. It will be easy to defeat him because of his ignorance.

But, Thrawn came to Canto Bight to get some rest and relaxation. His visit to Canto Bight is more about Imperial business than his desires. He has no companions. His art study has slowed tremendously since his battle with the Rebels. Governor Pryce tends to avoid him the entire time on Lothal until his last day before he returns to duty. Then, he has little time to spend with her. As her superior, he orders her about on the ship, but Arihnda ignores his orders, on purpose for some kind of tryst rendezvous. He hates that. He could care less about her feelings or if she gives him the silent treatment as punishment. When she needs him, she speaks to him. His biggest issue is why does she have him at this event? Because it is an auction of pilfered art? He feels her frozen abandonment and it frustrates him that he wastes his time on such frail human emotions. He has better things he can do with his time, like Tarkin, and he needs to leave.

At the moment, as he watches Lothal's sunset and the rise of the moons, alone, again. He grabs a champagne flute and takes a sip of the bitter bubbly fluid. "Ah, some fruit taste in this champagne. Meiloorun taste. Good."

He strolls to view the various art pieces when he reaches the entrance of an alcove. A painting is set alone as one beam of light shines on it. He hears whispers that come from the painting that compels him to come closer. The drab black, gray and green colors turn to vibrant blue, red, orange and yellow as they illuminate in the curves within the painting. They form a script that appears as ancient Bith, and then suddenly switch to Cheunh, his native Chiss language. His brow squeezes together as he witnesses this strange act. A rather curious name. As he draws nearer to the painting, when a young woman in a stunning gown twinkles past him, equally drawn to the painting. Unable to conceal a smirk finding this new person who analyzes the same painting interesting, he wonders if she is a competitor who would outbid him for this painting. She bends over to read the same script with the same colors that flow in the curvature. He crosses his arms watching her hips sway as she is oblivious to her ogling audience and him. Then, she pops up her torso as her admirers quickly turn to pretend not to gawk at her except for Thrawn who chuckles at the intentional flirtation. Then, her line of sight meets his gaze from a distance. She crosses her arms until a champagne flute droid rolls past her and grabs another champagne to sip with a grin. A playful sway of her hips flirts with Thrawn as she re-examines the painting.

Thrawn walks over to speak to his Lieutenant Commander Kuuztin who stood near him gawking at the woman. “That young woman in the stunning gown…err…the one who studies the painting seems odd here. Is she familiar to any of you?”

“Of course, Lieutenant, perhaps we should check her invitation?” Kuuztin stares at Sabine. “She looks absolutely stunning…err…I mean we should know all our guests at this event. In fact, perhaps I should speak to her?”

Lieutenant Yogar Lyste grins as he notices the lovely young lady in the stunning gown says dryly. “Vaguely familiar, but I can't place her, Sir. I’ll deal with it.”

Kuuztin glares at Lyste but chooses to not make a scene at this high command event.

Lyste races to Sabine and yanks her bicep. “Excuse me miss. Do you have an invitation?”

“Uh? My Stormtrooper detail has it.” Sabine blushes and giggles from her gaffe. “Um, he's that Stormtrooper over there.” As she flits her hand that points to a crowd Stormtroopers who cavort together.

Lyste caught on to her ruse and he narrows his eyes with a stern voice. “Please come with me, miss, as I inquire about your detail.”

Sabine searches for Lando and is unable to find him. She follows Lyste discreetly to not make a scene.

He yanks her bicep and pushes her over to a Stormtrooper who appears to be Lando. “Excuse me trooper, uh, operating number, TK-74-66, you will display this woman's invitation, at once.”

Lando in a smooth cool movement in Stormtrooper armor reaches into his pack and hands a flimsi to Lyste as he stares coldly into Lyste’s eyes through his visor. “Yes, sir. Here are her invitations, security and VISA documents. She is the Princess Selen Yasor daughter of the distinguished Lord En Saba Yasor of Bespin.”

Sabine wrestles her arm away from Lyste and gives him a ice cold glare. She sways her hips away from his indignant frown and returns to the painting that has mesmerized her. She notices an ancient Bith script switches into Mandalorian and spells VISAGE PRESAGE. She wants to touch the lines, curves, circles and shapes as the painting calls to her when it dawns on her that it is the Jaynor of Bith masterpiece. Her throat goes dry as she mouths quietly. “My maker.”

She takes two steps backward to distance herself from the painting when she bumps into a body that causes her to trip and fall to the floor. Her eyesight blurs for a moment and as she recovers and stares at black leather boots with white pants tucked into them. She follows the hem line to a white tunic that has gold bars on the shoulders and an Imperial Grand Admiral badge insignia. Her eyes blink as she sees a strong chiseled jaw with high cheek bones and blue skin, with red-in-red eyes that pierce like daggers into her soul.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn," Sabine mouths as she scrambles tip her champagne accidentally spilling it on his boot. Her champagne flute dings on the floor. “MY MAKER! I am so sorry, Sir,” she attempts to dab off the champagne from his boots with her gown, but it fails to absorb any liquid. 

Thrawn gazes down to his boots with a slight sigh to a small chuckle. He could tell her mistakes were a diversionary tactic and how she had her Stormtrooper carry her documents, which suggests a forgery. He muses, Bespin is not a world with royalty. Who sneaks into an Imperial art auction?  As he surveys her body form, he inadvertently views the curvature of her endowed breasts. This young woman had a very admirable body, like an athlete. He inhales deeply to savor his sneak peek, and then quickly averts his eyes from her chest, unfazed by her exposure. His jaw flexes a moment in that he did enjoy the sight. Then he frowns with his red eyes to intimidate her and see if she tips over again. But her big brown eyes plead with him to be discreet. He shifts his stance as he wonders. Have we met before? He sees her sun-kissed complexion glow a beautiful light brown, another reminder of her innocence. She is a young woman at her first event who is anxious and fearful. A barely discernible grin slides across his face as his voice projects with grand admiral authority. “It's quite alright, young lady.” He places his cerulean hand out to lift her up as she stands very close to him, face to face. Her beauty intoxicates him. He decides to be flirtatious. He was not attracted to human women, but Sabine wore a stunning gown, and the way she moves in it is provocative. Then this famous priceless painting that intrigues them both, he had to know more about her. He states pleasantly. “Are you enjoying the event?”

Sabine stares into his red eyes as a brief memory image flashes in her mind. “I uh?” Then Lyste snatches and grabs her bicep to drag her away. She regains her confidence without taking her eyes off Thrawn's pupils. “I would enjoy this event, if your henchmen would unhand me. Brigands!” She made sure everyone heard her.

Lando races to her side and nudges her gently in a whisper to calm her. “Who's the blue face?” He slightly gestures to Thrawn.

Sabine waves Lando away as she mouths slowly. “Grand Admiral Thrawn.” She turns her back to Thrawn to gesture to Lando the new plan. “Comm Hera, now.”

Thrawn studies all the non-verbal communications that surround him, especially as Sabine’s hips sway that lead him to watch her backside. He takes another sip of champagne. Thrawn's compulsion to know more causes him to intervene in Lyste’s security action. “It's alright, Lieutenant. I'll be with her. Give her to me. She will be my responsibility.” He smiles more as her familiarity resolves in his mind as he pretends ignore her Stormtrooper’s unethical, non-Imperial comment about his cerulean complexion.

Sabine grins wide as she laces her arm into Thrawn's as if they were the oldest of best friends. Surprisingly, Thrawn allows it out of sheer amusement. He is on Lothal to relax for three planetary rotations. Imperial security separates from them. They stand before the VISAGE PRESAGE.

Sabine holds his hand as her fingers move across his blood vessels underneath his blue skin. He is a Chiss in the Galactic Empire as high command. “Sir, you're an Imperial Grand Admiral.” Then she looks around to see the people gossip around them. “Do you like art?”

Thrawn smiles at her very specieist comment as innocent as it sounds. “Of course, I am an Imperial Grand Admiral. Who would dare impersonate an Imperial officer?” Her surprise understandable. After all non-humans in Imperial ranks were absent. “I do enjoy art. Though, only a few truly take pleasure in understanding it.” He releases her hand and moves closer to the painting. “What do you think of this painting here?”

Sabine bit her lip moving around him. “The lines are strange as if the binder in the paint is discolored. It is not a traditional painting by Jaynor.”

He tilts his head a little impressed by her art history and knowledge, so far. Most individuals knew nothing about art, especially not the artist. “I believe Jaynor of Bith created this piece in his younger days. And while its patterns are odd they do mean something.” He studies the young woman’s hand wringing and through her accent, he confirms his suspicion that she is Mandalorian. “What do you think the piece means?”

She hesitates to see if Lando starts the mission to steal the painting. She reminds herself that Lando gave her thong panties that vibrate. He said it will signal when the mission starts. Lando said he made the device intimate to confound the Imperials, should they search her. They would not dare put their hands on her private parts. But Sabine had no clue how to wear a thong, and Hera did not know. Lando had to put the thong on Sabine. If her crotch vibrates and she wiggles, Thrawn would know of the ruse. She feels his icy stare pound on her back. She felt naked in front of him. She passes the feeling off as cryptic xenophobic Chiss and their red eyes. But then she realizes by his brow, he actually is intent on knowing her answer. The more she stares at him, she found his pleasant gentlemanly manner and his hands behind his back extremely attractive. Her eyes drop to down his body as she sees his muscles flex underneath his tunic. Her lips part to hold a goofy grin. Then she realizes her schoolgirl behavior could blow the mission. She snaps out it to answer him intelligently and confidently. “The patterns are odd, Sir. That is what this painting means.”

He took a breath before he spoke. He resigned himself that no one galaxy could discuss art with him. He decides to deliver an art lecture. “Biths by culture, are natural scientists, mathematicians, and engineers. They pay a lot of attention to detail. When examining this piece, you have to believe that every strike, every tiny speck has been intentional the circles are scattered, the colors: purple, red, yellow, and blue. Its true meaning lies in its past the Nozho–Weogar War of Bith before Rugess Nome, of course...” He trails and smiles toward the painting as if he made a new discovery. “Jaynor of Bith captures this civil war itself in his painting. The red describes the blood spilled and the purple describes the painful bruises. The blue and black describe a transition. A transition from the Bith system planet from its pure blue skies to dark polluted atmosphere. Those circles there, those describe the diameters of the biological weapon that destroyed the planet and their impact.” Pride lifts his chest with this discovery and he had someone who knew art to discuss it with that left his thoughts – Am I the first person to figure out the true meaning of this painting?

Sabine tilts her head and stands back as she walks past him, and then leans into the painting to get a closer look at her observations. “While you have given the basic primary and secondary colors of these paintings, their shades suggest color wavelength of 700 nanometers for red, 590 nanometers for yellow, 425 for cyanoblue and 390 for the violet. There is very little gloss in the paint itself, yet there is vibrancy. That could mean either degradation of the paint over time, if you say it is the age that it is. It cannot be painted like an inferior organic paint preparation that is not synthetic or an oil-based biological. Which makes it either an acrylic based paint or tempera based paint. I know it is not tempera, because it would flake and the image does not appear to be damaged by sentient being movements.” She bumps into him accidentally as she nearly swoons at how rock hard he feels. She looks into his eyes from his gaze and open mouth in shock. “My apologies, Grand Admiral, I don't know why I keep bumping into you like that." Her fake giggle could not cover her examination of the painting. "While this painting was held in private collection, the droids either used proper archaeological protocols.” She shakes her head, and then frowns. “Or this painting tells us the coordinates of the Bith planet where this war took place from the emitted wavelengths.”

* * *

 

Thrawn strains from grabbing this young woman and devouring her with kisses before the Imperial elites. The Imperial gossip ruminates through his mind - Cold Blue Chiss Has Softspot For Unknown Young Woman - What Will They Say Next?

Suddenly, background music stops and loud music blares breaking the speakers. Pryce hired a disc jockey who announces it is time to dance. Thrawn looks at her still enraptured by the painting. Could Sabine dance? He would be smitten if she tried. She couldn’t possibly dance? He muses to himself not to ask. Most women of means in the galaxy could not discuss art, and then dance or could they? Somewhere in the deep recesses of him mind, something told him to test that theory as extends his hand toward her with his most flirtatious voice. “Would you care to dance, milady?”

Sabine blinks as the chords of the song as her face goes pale realizes the tune. “The Zeltronian Tango?” Her voice breaks as her eyes widen staring into red-in-red eyes. She remembers when the Zeltron dancers at the Imperial Casino club taught her how to dance during her bounty hunting days. Easy money for each dance. Drunk and grimy consumers who would pay to touch her tiny body. At that time, she could not dance. She hates this dance, but after she ran away from the Imperial Academy on Mandalore, and found her bounty hunter crew landing her on the planet Zeltron, and she had to make money.

She glares at Thrawn ready to deny him, but the light in his eyes bounces eagerly. She tilts her head to change her mind. Slowly, she trudges to the dance floor. She could not blow her cover as she assumes the first position. The room full of Imperials size her up and stare at her alone on the floor. They gossip about her and her sexy gown and that she seduced the Grand Admiral who suddenly seems to have disappear. Hurriedly, she her eyes dart around the room searching for Thrawn. Her mind feels full of dread. Did he renege? Maybe he thinks I can’t dance? She pants furiously. Then, she feels a large hand wrap around her lower back, and another large hand clasp her open hand.

Thrawn pulls her close to him and whispers calmly into her ear with a soft command. “Just follow my lead if you don’t know how to dance. I was being spontaneous and I apologize for being so forward.” He catches her eyes to assuage her nervous shaking. He knew there is no way she could dance.

On the high beat, he pushes forward as she immediately follows his steps. Thrawn moves to the music, and Sabine careful to avoid his toes. They flow across the floor as her gown flares from Sabine’s twists caused by Thrawn’s lead hand and hip movements. As her gown rises, the audience gawks at her toned legs. Their dance exposes her svelte body under his control since he is the lead.

The melody takes a different chord as he stops for her part of the dance. The way her hips gyrate as she drops shaking her backside to the ground underneath him. She pops to face him with a look of that he is her prey. He gasps and has a momentary loss of control by stepping off-beat while she whips around him in her part. The Zeltron Courtesans taught her well. 

The Imperial audience gasps when Thrawn and Sabine dance the dance of seduction - Zeltronian Tango. The more he watches her dance, the more his excitement he feels in his body. A sensation of pleasurable tingles throughout his skin. His libido quickens and causes an erection. Fascinating thoughts swirl throughout his mind as he twirls Sabine with his lead hand. His excitement causes him to skip a beat. Thrawn had to regain control, if not for his own body, but for her in this dance. With a stern frown, they float over the floor with a few more low jump steps. and he finally, he dips her lithe body deeply. She arches her back, and lifts her hands above her head accordingly as she swings her leg near his ear. He eyes focus on the largeness of her breasts as he salivates to kiss them. He sees her breathless limp body as she tries to catch her breath with her beleaguered breathing by her rib cage rapid rise and fall. 

The sight of all this cause him to become lightheaded, and then he grins as he lifts her gently back into his arms. She inhales fully when she catches him staring her. The corners of her mouth turn up into a smile following him. But, Thrawn is smitten with Sabine. His crew and a few other Imperials drop their mouths while he dances well with an unknown young woman. He has never been outwardly personable and sociable. He is usually boring and stoic like other Imperial commanding officers. But Thrawn dances very well. Who is this women that brought a sociality out of him? 

This tango exposes him and his private enjoyments. He squeezes his eyes to shut out the mental critiques he senses, until Sabine captures his gaze again. Her calm eyes as she grins from how much fun she had with him until his heart rate eases to a slow peaceful place and a silence from the noise in the hall like they were the only couple. Suddenly, reality returns to the loud applause as he watches Sabine wave and curtsy to them. He waves his free hand imitating Sabine as he grips one of her hands until his becomes balmy. This feeling is far from his quiet, solitude life. A spotlight shines on him as fear and dread enters his body. But he kept his eyes on Sabine where he felt safe, less nervous, less on edge and more willing to risk extroversion. The most lasting impression resonates in his mind - She can discuss art and can dance with me. His broad smile causes a natural glow to his eyes.

* * *

 

Thrawn stands before the young woman in the stunning gown. Several Imperials nod in deference - a gentleman’s wager as to who will beguile the unknown young woman. Thrawn did. Gossip abounds as to his private relationships were. He had heard them all, such as: He had a wife in Chiss Space and left her; because he is alien, he is pansexual and polyamorous; he broke the Imperial military code and had sex with his subordinates under his command; and the one most egregious is he had no sex organs and was in love with the Emperor and Darth Vader. Of course, none of them true. He has feelings and his training is not to act on them. It is bad grooming for the Chiss. To him, consent, freely given is important to him. But he has not found it, yet, until tonight. Until he formally met this young woman, Sabine Wren. But she hid her true self to him. Whether she is a spy or a very attractive decoy, he still needs her unrestrained consent. It is mandatory for him as a Chiss man. He must let everyone see his impeccable behavior a he ponders it. What would Darth Vader say about a very young attractive woman in a sexy gown? He laughs at the very thought as he snakes his arm around her back. “Sabine, would you like to go outside for a breath of fresh air?” Unaware that he divulges her real name.

Oblivious, Sabine grins as she skips to the balcony. Her mind reels from her hate of the spotlight and her disdain for it. All eyes on her made her self-conscience and especially when the Empire watches her. Thrawn enchants her into dancing the Zeltronian Tango. Her hands wring if Rebel agents saw her dance. No Rebels knew she could dance, especially not like that of a Zeltron cultural dance for sexual seduction. One dance. If any of the Mandalorians saw me dance like known prostitutes, what would they think? She coughs as the fresh air fills her lungs. This gown needs to come off – she thinks as she sways her hips when she realizes that Thrawn lingers behind her. Is he looking at my ass? She turns back to see, as he averts his red pupils from her backside. Asshole. Every last “Imperial,” she says aloud.

“Pardon, milady?” Thrawn clasps her biceps with his large hand.

Sabine’s brows rise in surprise. “I uh…the air is fresh.” She lies to him. “That…dance…I thought you hard...erect…Imperials…stiff?” Her tongue tied by Thrawn as she feels his red-in-red eyes gaze on her as he takes a sip of champagne.

Thrawn nearly spits out his champagne when he hears Sabine say hard, erect, stiff Imperials. The pain from his stiffness stifles him when he discovers that she thought Imperials did not relax. After a few more gulps to clear his throat he answers. “Not all of us Imperials are stiff and we like to dance. Many of us can dance, formally.” He laughs unable to take his eyes off her with thoughts he rarely has – I’m going to get Sabine out of that stunning gown.

She gathers her breath. She feels the heat from his sculpted arm next to her body. The strong beam from his eyes wanes and she can tell his analysis of her has ceased. Maybe it is the champagne, or he takes a break. Maybe it is the air from the top floor, nearly 100 plus stories high that overlooks Canto Bight's cityscape of development. A sanguine taste in her mouth as how the Empire gentrified the neighborhoods from the poor, and then raze their homes for a new downtown too expensive for the poor to live. Sabine hides her rage when she catches Thrawn gaze of admiration. Why does he keep looking at me like that?  Angrily she asks. “What?”

“Where did you learn about art?” His motive for that question is to show Sabine his holocollection in his private residence.

“Oh? My family, here and there.” She smiles sheepishly as she sips her champagne. She sees his champagne flute is empty. She ventures a return ask. “How about you? Where did you learn about art?”

He exhales as he reminisces his first few doodles in class and his admonishments by his teachers. He chuckles as no one has ever asked him. “Same.” He nods his head and grins. “I collect art. Holographic art. Unfortunately, I cannot keep serious art pieces with me on my Star Destroyer, the Chimaera.”

“You have a Star Destroyer?” Sabine’s voice pitch rises with a cheesy grin. Of course, he had one, he is the Grand Admiral of the Imperial Fleet. She had to throw him a bit off about her, especially since her people were going to steal the Visage Presage. However, he threw her off when he slid his huge arm behind her, and his other large hand grazes across her hand that rests by her hip. She could feel his breath on her skin. She could hear his heartbeat. She dares not look into his eyes, but she can feel his stare is not that of analysis, it is of want. I have to throw him off more. How could she make his -- very taut body -- less attractive without her imagination run wild? She closes her eyes and thinks of Thrawn as old, but his body is rock hard solid and lean cut. He has an eight-pack. He smells a cologne that is manly for a non-Human and it intoxicates her as her body sways to the scent of it. Chiss do not have pheromones do they?

He notices Sabine sizes him up physically. “I have a residence planet side, too. If you would like to see my art collection, I would be honored. One art aficionado to another.”

“I’m not an art aficionado, I am an artist. A painter. Modern pop iconography. Graffi--.” She blurts glaring at him, and then stops when she realizes she blew her cover. 

Thrawn sips from a full champagne flute, as his brow rises in confusion. 

Maybe he won’t notice? Osik! Chiss physiology and alcohol. I’m a bit inebriated. WAIT! Is he FLIRTING with me? Oh...I don’t know? Panic sets in her eyes as she tries to see if she should punch him and run from the hall from her stupid fatal error.

Thrawn tilts his head. “Have I seen your art? You must show me your portfolio. Perhaps I could sponsor a show in a gallery on a planet? The possibilities are endless.” He grins as his imagination and creative thoughts rolls through his mind.

His words do not reassure her as she sorts in her mind how to cover up her huge error. She watches his movements and recalls her time on Zeltron, some of the dancers were also sex workers. They often spoke to Sabine and her bounty hunter friends about partaking in that aspect of the business. They would recruit the clients to the sex worker house parties, and after the parties, all the proceeds would be collected and doled out. Sabine and her friend Ketsu Onyo refused. But that did not stop the Zeltrons workers telling them about tricks of the trade. How to search for clients at the most opportune time. 

Thrawn flirts with her, she knew it from his body language and his opportune time is now. Sabine should make her move on him. Go to his residence to "see" his art collection. How much of it she will see is up for speculation. As an Imperial, he should have duty and honor. As a military man, formerly trained by the Chiss as a child, much like Mandalorians, he would follow military process. He is an Admiral in the Imperial Navy, he should hold true to that, or...maybe he is horny? Sabine knew when males were horny, but never for her, except one and he is like family. Sabine studies Thrawn’s eyes, they were vacant, as if he is profoundly lonely. She hears the tenor in his voice, as if she already rejected him. Like it rejection in relationships is his normal. Sabine felt what Thrawn felt when he spoke to human women who reject him because of his blue skin. She looks at his eyes and the disarming deep red-in-red eyes and they lack brightness compared to when she would see sparks while he discusses art and dances. She turns to him and smiles as she peruses his body, and then sees his stiffness in his crotch. Her eyes widen as she cannot take her eyes off its size. He lobs out of his white trousers like a huge bulge. She nearly snorts her champagne through her nose.

He turns to face her to help with a handkerchief from an inside pocket. It had tiny purple, orange, and yellow paint spots on it. “Are you okay? I hope you did not guzzle down the champagne like me. You can impaired. Good thing I'm not on duty, today.” He laughs at his own joke.

Her hands hold his hands that wipe away the champagne with his handkerchief until one of her hands fall on his chest and slides down his tunic. She felt his body and it is rock hard. Her lips quiver into a slight grin as looks up to him and sees his intimidating stone face. He catches her hand from any further moves. He softens his facial expression and his jaw. He held her hand gently into his warm hands. “Now-now Sab’ika. I exhibit an exorbitant amount of personal control. After all, I am a Grand Admiral, I have to maintain control. I will not move forward, unless you desire it.”

Sabine’s eyes widen. No male asked for her desire or consent. She had to beat them down to stop them from groping her and taking liberties. Thrawn sounds sincere, sweet and respectful. Wait. Did he just call me Sab’ika? “I-I don’t know what to-to say, Sir.”

“I figured out who you were when I entered the hall. It is my job after all.” He flashes his smile. “But, that analysis of the Jaynor of Bith painting and your ability to dance like Zeltronian Courtesans--” His voice drifts. “Before I arrest and interrogate you, I still would like for you to see my holoart collection. Please say yes. I would feel remiss from missing out on this opportunity among art enthusiasts.”

Sabine frowns from utter confusion. How did Thrawn craftily, cleverly and intelligently trap her? In his fairness, he did not immediately kill her and Lando. After a long moment in silence, she quips. “At least I will get out of this gown for prison clothes.”

* * *

Grand Admiral Thrawn wraps his hand around Sabine Wren's waist to escort her from the event premises to his luxury landspeeder to take her to his residence. The Deathtroopers take off from the hall and meander to a 2 kilometer path to his home in a newly constructed high-rise on the outskirts of Canto Bight's city's center. Through a private entrance for High Command, he delivers a voice recognition codes to await access to the large glass doors. He walks in front of her as he evaluates the location. Sabine lumbers behind him in hopes that he does not kill her.

The swoosh of the glass doors open, Thrawn clasps her hand quickly to the lift. They enter carefully on the full rose crystal-like glass lift as he presses a few codes to unlock the penthouse level on the 800 level. The lift moves as the floors fly by quickly. He watches Sabine forlorn and her head down. Captured prey. He could see the slight twists with her mouth as to what to expect. Grand Admiral Thrawn always had several plans. But in this instance, he had no clue until--

Suddenly, the lift stops abruptly at level 250. Sabine is thrown into Thrawn’s arms as she searches to see the exit. The level is too low. She stares at him in fear as her heart lobs out of her chest --  _so he will kill me here, where no one would find me._

“I stopped the lift, Sab’ika.” His voice says softly as he caresses her cheek with his hand rounding around her ear and presses her chin slightly. He leans in to graze his lips over hers. The lift lights flicker as he snaps to attention. His red-in-red eyes glare at a holocam that records his movement. He has a momentary loss of control over his passionate outburst and pushes Sabine off of him. He crosses his arms and presses the security code to restart the lift.

Sabine hyperventilates as the lift flies past several more levels higher. He could throw her out a window and claim she jumped to her death. She realizes that time to act is now. Did she want to act? She could see his loss of control, he avoids her eye contact while she watches him.  _Right time, yeah, right time is now. I can try it and if he pushes me away from him, then I was wrong and I want him. Yeah._ She raises her chest high as he lifts his gaze on her again, and she tackles his body to make his arms carry her. She does what the Zeltron Courtesans taught her to do as she recites their mantras in her mind:  _Take him fast when you know he wants it. Stick your tongue all the way down his throat and devour him. Grind your hips on him and force him to make a choice._

Thrawn had every right to execute her, but in Sabine’s mind all she wants to do is fuck the hell out of Thrawn. To ride him, hard. She did not care if she saw daylight again. If she got caught on the holocam and the first Imperials broadcast her as a Rebel scum on the HoloNet, she would die for fucking Thrawn.

Thrawn held her in his arms as he stumbles to regain stable footing. His eye widen in surprise by Sabine’s sexual response. It overwhelms him and he returns the act kissing her passionately. A desire he had for a long time. He could take her in that lift and continue to have sex in his residence. He knew the holocams were on, but that would sate the rumors about him: _"Cruel Blue Alien" or "A Chiss Has No Emotion"_. Fact is he did not care what anyone thought about what he did now. He desires Sabine and while Sabine is rather young for him, his dry season without breeding a woman now ends. High Command would see it as a conquest, and the Emperor and Lord Vader would overlook his one indiscretion.

Her sweet kiss slides down his neck and drives him wild physically with lust and passion to take what he deserves. He closes his eyes to savor her taste. His hand reached toward her front as he digs into her panties. Only a few human women wore panties and that delights him. She wears lingerie. He pulls them around a learns she is completely bald in her feminine regions. He takes a quick peek as he has never seen a human woman without pubic hair. He pulls her back nibbling her neck, until he hears her moan. He notices his hand feels a sticky goo as he rubs her slit. He edges closer to his fingers feeling her more as his other hand grabs her well endowed breast. That has always been enjoyable. He pushes his index and middle fingers in deeper when -- the lift slows to an easy stop at his penthouse and he would take this young woman and “interrogate” her to the fullest extent of his law. He feels Sabine's tongue entwine with his, and then the lift doors open to his closed vestibule. He stops to hide his inebriation, but stumbles off the lift carrying Sabine and drops her with a laugh. Her wetness slid across his hand, and to his surprise as his cock got harder. He gazes at her as he places his hand out to lift her back to her feet. “Sab’ika, I’m too old for you. I’m your superior.” He stutters through his rationality. "Is-is this what you want? No matter the repercussions? I can't commit. My allegiance is to the Chiss -- err -- Empire.”

“How about freedom, Grand Admiral?" Sabine rises and walks backward toward his suite grand doors. Her gown drops to the floor, and then she runs naked through his atrium.

He chuckles and commands the large doors to his home. “Open.” The grand doors open and Sabine runs into his penthouse. She kicks off her skyhigh heel shoes as her breasts bounce in a bikini thong. He attempts to stiffen his jaw, but his body does something opposite to control as it opines for freedom. “Good girl.”

“You know my nickname, what’s yours?” She toys with Thrawn as she enters his refresher facilities. “WAYII! You have a pool in here?”

“No. That’s the bath. See the refresher?” He goes to his desk to check his numerous messages he will not answer for the moment, and he activates his "do not disturb" code. “It’s ‘Raw’…That the name my parents and brother call me.”

“Okay then, Raw…Answer me this? Why am I naked, and you’re still stiff in your stuffy uniform?”

He bursts into laughter as he unbuttons his top jacket and removes his belt. He loosens his suspenders, and removes his shirt and undershirt to show his hulking blue-skinned alien chest. He unbuttons his trousers and he wears boxer-briefs. He removes his underwear. His hard penis unfurls from its largess. He tilts his head. “You know about Chiss men, right? Like a snake, our genitals hood when we’re excited.”

Sabine’s eyes gawk as her attempts not to stare fail her. She giggles wildly as she watches his penis hood like a cobra. “I gather you have fucked a lot of humans?”

“I am older, Sabine. Normally, I would never sleep with anyone I just met no matter how attracted I am to them. But…” He walks to her as he wraps her arms around his neck. “Art. Tango. Where have you been all my life?”

Demure, she states. “Being born, old man.”

He smirks and laughs. “I only look old, I’m only a few years older than you. At 10 years old, Chiss appear as adults. I have been an adult longer than you. But for Coruscant years, I am only 40 years old.”

“I like older men, Chiss.” She holds his attention, then wrestles from his grasp as she searches for his bed. “Do Chiss sleep?”

“No…Yes…What?”

“Bed and bedding?” She shrugs.

He speaks. “Bed, lower.” The bed lowers from the ceiling with sheets, pillows and comforters. “I sleep, Sab’ika. But I thought we would look at my--.”

She silences him when she places fingers on his lips. “Naked analysis of your holoart collection?” She dances around him laughing as she loses her inhibitions. “We could fuck while you tell me your analysis of each piece.”

“I-uh…” That tongue-ties Thrawn. A beautiful naked woman runs through his domicile and wants to discuss art while they had sex. “Sabine, slow down for me.” He catches her arms. “I want you…I want you…” He shakes his head from his confusion. “I want you to ride me as hard as you can.” He points down to his private region.

Sabine laughs as his penis hoods. She bites her lips and scoots him to his bed as they fall together. With her hand she holds his cock over her wet panties. Thrawn grabs a pocket knife to cut the panties and he rips them off in one swift movement. He holds her hand to guide his cock inside her. She squeezes her eyes with a grunt. “You’re fucking huge.”

“You are so tight and it’s been a long time.”

“Long time?”

He grabs her hips as to make her grind on top of him, and then he moves her hips up and down as she rides over every nerve along his cock. He feels her warm wet insides slide ooze down his thirsty shaft as if it was his first time. He exhales and moans as he says her name. “Sab’ika…Mmm…Ch’acah-Love. Slow…for me.” Then he feels her rocks her hips forward and hard. His eyes widen to stop her. “Ch’acin’t, go too fast, I’ll drop my load inside. Is that what you want?”

She bends down and bites his ear. “Do you want to be free, Grand Admiral?”

He flips her over on her back with his arm muscles flex as his hips thrusts his cock deep inside her. “I want...I want you…” His eyes close as his cock hoods inside her. She screams in ecstasy as her entire body feels like it vibrates in orgasm. “You are my vesen…woman. You understand? You are mine.”

“Yes--Yes. Admiral.” She pulls up to face him as he hoods pulsating while she jerks by the ecstatic feeling inside her. “Ahh. Mmm…Yes, Raw…I’m yours.” Her legs shake around him as her nipples harden and she cries in pain and joy. Her first time having sex.

He slows down ejaculating to fill her up with his seed. He leans her back and suckles her rich breasts in his lips. They taste sweet as his mind dwells on freedom. He stares into her eyes as tears fall from her eyes and he unlatches inside from her. “Sab’ika, are you okay?”

“You are too good to me.” She pants as she feels his cock pulsate.

He kisses her lips to keep her focus. He gently cradles her head on his fingertips. “Let’s take a bath. Are you hungry? You feel dehydrated. I’ll order something to be sent.” He lifts her from the bed and carries her to the small pool-sized bath to lay her gently inside the tub as he sits by her. The lights activate as the bath accouterments are added by tiny flying droids. Small bubbles emit as the pool doubles as spa. Her back lays upon her chest. He felt her tears fall as she cries. “Sabine, why are you crying?”

“You are too good to me.”

“Is this what you want? I’ll stop if it is not.”

“Yes. I want it, more.” She enjoys him. She had no idea her orgasms would be this vibrant. She hyperventilates as she laughs from the sensations that pulsate through out her. Thrawn is a man who treats her like a woman and it is her first time. “I don’t deserve this.”

“Let me worry about what you deserve, okay. You are mine.” Then it dawns on Thrawn. His hand reaches down to her crotch and he lifts out his fingers to see blood trickle down his hand. He smells it, tastes it and his eye expand, and then narrow when realizes it is Sabine's blood.  _I took her...veshasi._ His eyes roll as he palms his face into his other hand. He shakes his head to process the repercussions, but it does not slow his fantasizing about freedom.

 

\--may change without notice--


	8. Ante Meridiem - Sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How the relationship of Thrawn and Sabine developed. Part 1: Sunlight

Sabine feels the strong and hot morning light beam on her face from an open window. Her nose twists as she flexes her jaw. Her arm hangs off the bed as her head turns to the side. She purr-snores infrequently, then when she stops her breath, she flips her head to the other side. The sheets twist around her naked body as she lies on her stomach. Rarely, she creates a sound beyond her purr-snores. Her sleep sounds like the whine of a loth-cat kitten who seeks its littermate.

Thrawn watches her as he sits in qotn white lounge clothes and white sport slides. His legs crossed as he reads his datapad. He reads the latest news reports.  He scrolls through the HoloNet commentary about the Lothal Art Auction and the theft of a priceless painting, the _Visage Presage_ at the hands of Rebel insurgents. He hears a noise stir from Sabine as she moves her other hand on to the pillow. He watches her ass underneath the sheet as her torso lifts, and then she sits staring out the windows with an attempt to gain her bearings. The sheet drops to expose her back and her ass crack. Thrawn finds her actions very seductive and it him beckons to come to her. Instead, he clears his throat. “You need hydration, ch’acin’t.” A droid rolls in the room and brings water in a glass to her.  Thrawn stands and stretches his arms, then walks to his closet to put on his Imperial Grand Admiral uniform. “I have an impromptu meeting about the art auction. It seems the _Visage Presage_ we analyzed at the auction was stolen. Do you know anything about that, Sab’ika?”

Sabine does not drink the water. It could be poisoned. It could have knockout drugs. It could be a trap for Thrawn to kill her because of her involvement with the Rebels and the theft of painting. It could be her fears are irrational. She had sex with him. Thrawn. A Chiss man. Her first time having sex, and they had sex many times last night. She is a woman, now. She is no longer a little ditsy girl. It is her choice. She chose to fuck Thrawn the entire night. He behaves like a gentleman to her? At least she is still alive despite the heist, or her Rebel affiliations. A droid whizzes by her and opens the curtains on the window. The morning sun blazes through as the back of her eyes feel like they burn from the sun's brightness. She rises as the sheets that cover her body drops. The sun warms her body in her nakedness as she hears Thrawn’s question, but refuses to answer him. She meanders to sofa where it is dark, plops down and lays there to return to sleep.

“Sabine?” Thrawn enters the room in his full-dress uniform. He grins and sits next to her and kisses her shoulder as he lifts her chin. “You were with me the entire time. I am responsible for you. Do you understand? You are my vesen...my woman.” His hand cradles her cheek and kisses her lips.  As he exhales, he apologizes. “I’m sorry, but this meeting came up and I must go to it although I am on leave. I suspect it will be about this heist and with Rebel operatives being in attendance at the auction. I want you to stay here in my penthouse, you will be safer here. The droids will bring you whatever you need until this whole thing blows over.”

Sabine stares into his red-in-red eyes and grabs his neck to kiss him tenderly leaning him back into the arm of the sofa. Thrawn stops her to ask for an answer. Sabine answers. “Yes, Grand Admiral. You want me to stay in your domicile like I’m your servant girl, until you get back, right?”

More smiles from Thrawn. “You are not my servant girl, and only if you want to stay, but the heist of the priceless painting is a serious concern for Lothal -- err -- Governor Pryce. She spent a lot to have a cultured event on this planet, only to have it become a security nightmare and lose a collector’s priceless painting to the Rebels.” He says glibly. “Now, I have to hear her bitch about it all day while I’m on vacation.” He shakes his head as she snickers when he gazes into Sabine’s beautifully shaped almond eyes. “And if she discovers your presence.” He thinks about the Governor’s response in amusement, and then pulls her close to softly speak into her ear.  “I feel closer to you in this short period of time than I ever have with anyone, and I-I am discreet about these kinds of affairs should you choose this.” He searches his pocket to remove a bubble pack of pills. “Oh, and these are for you, ch’acin’t.”

Sabine takes the pill pack and studies the silver bubbles. “What are these?”

“Morning after pills.” Thrawn does not eye her. “I know we got a little randy last night and perhaps, my better judgement was impaired.” His red eyes flashes as he gazes into hers. “Sab’ika, please tell me you remember what happened last night?”

A long moment of silence passes as she watches his hand draw down her skin before she speaks. “Do you want me to take these? Because I will if you insist. But I do not like taking anything that could be harmful to me.”

His head tilts while he watches her mouth move. “I am not insisting you to take them. Only take them if you want. But be realistic, Sab’ika, I’m concerned only for you. You are my vesen.”

“Well, I remember everything that happened last night, and my better judgement is not impaired. If I did not want this to happen, I would not have done it. This event is my first. My first formal dance as—” her voice trails. “My first time I had sex with a man.”

Thrawn palms her chin gently and holds her in his arms. “I know.”

Sabine gazes in his eyes. “You do?” Her face reddens by embarrassment as to how he knew that. She quickly changes the subject.  “Yes, well—it was my first formal gown. Where is it by the way?”

“At the cleaners.” Thrawn grins slowly. “But, Sab’ika, I--” In his giddy excitement, his brows rise and clasps her hand. “I enjoyed myself, too. I was excited, and I don’t know what overcame me last night. I had to breed you. I know I seeded you. I knew I wanted to do that after we analyzed the painting. And that dance...”

“What do you mean, breed? We had sex.” Then it dawns on Sabine as her eyes widen and she shifts position in a quiet voice. “Oh...I have never considered contraception." Her face perplexes as she processes what happens to her. She blurts her next comment. "D-Do you want me to bear your younglings?” Her modest brown eyes rise to meet his red ones.

He kisses her, and then separates from her lips to hold her. “I would have not bred you, if I did not want younglings from you. I would have found a way to protect myself.” His voice holds concern for their futures. “If this what you want, ch’acin’t, then we have a lot work to do.”

“You know exactly what I am. I have not lied to you. I’m a Mandalorian. I’m an artist and I’m a rebel. I take risks with passion.”

“You’re reckless and I can guide you to be better. Let me show you a better way, ch’acin’t.”

“What does ‘ch’acin’t’ mean?”

“‘Sweetheart’ in my language, Cheuhn.”

“Oh?” Sabine processes his words. “Will you kill me?”

“What? No. Do you know what you’ve done to me?” His voice rises an octave as his brows rise. “Sab’ika, you asked me to be free and I took that risk. I’ve never felt more alive. If I could, I would take you to my homeworlds, Csilla and Copero right now so you can meet my people. Do you understand? I never bring anyone to meet my people.”

Sabine blinks unsure what he meant by visiting his people. She looks around the area and sees neatly folded white qotn clothes for her and white flip flop sandals for her. She unfurls the top and puts on the top to cover herself and steps into the sandals as they click her heels when she walks. “May I go outside, Raw? Or is that forbidden, too?”

He watches her edge to the large window near the indoor-outdoor pool. A shield covers over it to protect him. Above them set aside on the roof, there is a shuttle craft landing pad that he can summon to take him where he needs to go. His landspeeders and speeder bikes all reside in his garage near the landing pad, which overlooks the pool. The entire Imperial build city landscape can be seen from his penthouse. He never enjoys it.  The outdoor part of his pool has chaise lounge chairs, a cooking station, and a table for 12 to entertain guests. He never uses his property. It is not because he is too busy, it is because, strangely, his desire to entertain any guests is dismal. He recognizes the splendor of his penthouse palace when Sabine asks him permission to go outside. “Unlatch the windows, let’s some fresh air flow through here.” The droids comply and open the windows.  “Sabine, as long as you promise me you will not sabotage my place or try to escape.”

Sabine has a mischievous grins on her face as the doors complete their opening and plops on a chaise lounge chair. She removes her top and retires in chaise and faces the sun. “I only want to get a suntan.” Sabine covers her eyes from the sun’s glare.  Grand Admiral Thrawn hovers over her to block her sunlight. She removes her arm and glares at him. “I knew it! You want me out!” But his blue hand gives her sunglasses.  “What’s this?”

“Eyewear protection for the sun’s ultraviolet light. I would not want you to burn out your retinas and not see our younglings.”

“They’re yours?”

“Yes. I wore them once. The shopkeeper said they were the ‘latest trend’.  I hid my red eyes to look like a Pantorean while running the streets on the upper levels of Coruscant.”

Sabine laughs at the thought of Thrawn behaving like a ruffian on the streets of Coruscant. _Were they his Imperial Academy days?_ “Nah, It can’t be true.” She did not believe him. She felt like Thrawn is trying to treat her like a child. She took the glasses and put them on as the only piece of “clothing” she wore. “Whoa! The lenses are really dark. The only reason why you’d get lenses this dark is if your eyes are really red because you’re high.”

Thrawn unfazed by her comment leans over and kisses her forehead. “You will need clothes. The fashion sense here are probably not to your particular Mandalorian tastes, but if you select a few items, I will pay for them, ch’acin’t.” He hands her a datapad.

Sabine looks through the array of selections. “Imperial uniforms? BLEECH!” Thrawn shakes his head with amusement as she looks through the Lothal local custom dress. “Oya. The clothes here are better than before, but I’m not wearing the pointy hats. I will not be your Lothalian maid.”

“Then be my Mandalorian maid.” Thrawn replies with a laugh. “Amazing how the Empire improves the distribution of goods across planets.”

Sabine’s eyes widen when she sees basic Mandalorian wear, the Iron Heart designs that have been fabricated by the Empire as a cultural appropriation. “Okay Raw, find me Rebel attire.” She glares at him.

Thrawn scrolls through and shows the oldest attire from the Rebels that appears more Jedi-based than the starbird icons she paints. “There, my dear. The Outer Rim creates all kinds of scum.” His voice snickers from sight of the available items, which are few in design.

Sabine frowns and returns to the Lothalian maid’s clothes, and selects a few conservative pieces and returns the datapad. “Here.”

“Is that all? Such drab colors for such a feisty, young and exuberant lady. That won’t do.” He scrolls around and looks at her body more intently. “I will choose appropriate attire for you. You will be accompanying me to Imperial functions.”

“Wait? What? What are you saying?”

Thrawn bores into her. “After this meeting, I will have social functions to attend and I want you to accompany me. It would require you to stay with me for 3 days until I return to duty aboard my ship.”

“And then what?”

“Then, you return to your Rebel scum life. Call it punishment for stealing my painting.” Thrawn chuckles. “You didn’t think I’d forget? Three days with me or I hand you over to ISB agents and you rot in some Imperial prison.”

Sabine’s cuts her eyes from Thrawn as she discovers his ultimate goal. What are her options? Leap to her death from his penthouse; kill him, and then every Imperial ship enters Mandalorian space is at war. Or suck it up for a cushy life for 3 days to live it up with a very powerful Imperial Officer to gain his trust.  Or the dingy dirtiness in an Imperial prison to never be seen again? Of course she opts for a cushy life for 3 days. But how much sacrifice did she make already? One night with Thrawn fulfills her sexual fantasies with a handsome man. Thrawn sweeps her off her feet and whisks her away from war. A military man not the roughnecks at the Mandalorian Oyu’baat Bar — always drunk, always fighting and always cheating. It is different from her relationship with Ketsu Onyo. Sabine loves her, but since Ketsu and the band of bounty hunters abandoned her in some hospital where Hera Syndulla recruited her. Sabine’s feelings for Ketsu have changed. Then Ezra Bridger whose love for her is really an infatuation. His love is solely of the Force and he is too immature for her.

Thrawn is very mature for her. Sophisticated. He fights for the wrong side, the Empire, but he is responsible. His stare from his red eyes burrows deep inside her as if she waits for a rational explanation of her feelings. “I guess you can already tell I accept 3 days with you, but I need assurances that you nor any other Imperial will not pursue me and put me in prison after our ‘adventure’. I want my record completely expunged from all Imperial files. I suspect you have the power to do that?”

“I will draw up the agreement.” He rises to leave. “I’ll be back, hopefully this will not bee a long meeting, and you need to hydrate and eat. The droids will take care of you. I promise, ch’acin’t.” He smiles and leaves with his personal detachment of Stormtroopers.

Once the door closes, Sabine exhales and leans in her chaise lounge wearing Thrawn’s sunglasses and basks in the sun. A droid rolls in and sets down a seltzer water and breakfast snack bar. She sips the water to clear her throat. “Vor entye droid! Now, if only I can call out to my crew.” The droid shakes its head in the negative, and she sighs and slowly falls asleep.

 

***

 

Sabine wakes to the sound of the shuttle that lands on the pad above her.  She flips over on her stomach to reach for her top to put it back on, then flips on her back.  She hears Thrawn’s footsteps race down to her, and then he sits next to her on the chaise. He smiles and holds her cheek to kiss her gently. She could taste the dryness of his mouth in comparison to hers. “You should drink more water, Grand Admiral.” She hands him a canteen of water.

Thrawn drinks the entire contents and clears his throat as he answers his comlink that sounds off notification alarms. “Yes, bring up the pieces. She will need one, tonight.” He turns to Sabine and smiles. “I must say, most women I know leap at the chance when I take them shopping, but you, I guess you miss your beskar’gam and buy’ce. I cannot re-create those, yet.”

Sabine licks her lips. “You bought me clothes, Raw?” The doorbell chimes as the clothing droids race into the area. Five outfits race into the living room.

Thrawn orders the droids. “Move here and scan this gorgeous young woman. I want accurate measurements. I ask for all these data to be kept private.” He turns to Sabine. “Please, Sab’ika, stand here. Do not move until they tell you to move.”

Sabine walks into the laser light cross on the ground as she watches Thrawn inhales to lift his torso to convince her to do that same. She lifts as she shows the heaviness of her breasts. The laser lights are green, blue and red move along every millimeter of her body. She laughs. “Help me, I’m being felt up by a very stable genius.”

“Measurements complete.” The droid speaks in a mechanical voice.

“Tailor all the clothing, immediately. I expect the work to be finished in an hour--” Thrawn turns to watch Sabine remove her top and jump into the pool for a swim. “Make that two hours.”

“As you wish.” The lead protocol droid responds and takes the dresses to tailor them to Sabine’s size, steam clean and iron them. The droid parade leaves the premises.

Thrawn presses his “do not disturb” signals for his security detail and comlinks. He races out of his tunic and he removes his boots at the same time, then drops his pants and removes his undergarments. Sabine swims her laps when Thrawn dives in the pool and catches up to Sabine’s strokes. His bulky arms catches her and stops her in the water. They laugh as they play in the pool. He pecks kisses her over her neck and cheeks.

Sabine feels his arms as she laughs. The kanoodle of her neck as she attempts to go underwater and maneuver around him. He follows her to keep her above water. An easy prediction for him. “Raw, you caught me.” She rests in his arms on his lap. “How soon will I be a foregone conclusion and dismissed?”

Thrawn stares at her then makes a honest suggestion. “Your hip movements are too ostentatious. Then, your left leg turns outside when it should be on the inside. It is easy for me to follow your flit.”

Sabine kisses him as her hands wander underwater to find his cock and yanks it with a snicker. “How’s that for flit.”

Thrawn closes his eyes for a moment in confusion. “I’m not like a human man. It does not hurt...that way.” He relaxes his arms to let her go, and then his red eyes meet her. “I’m willing to try something new. You want to yank me, try it with that mouth of yours?”

Sabine gazes into his glowing red eyes and sinks underwater below him and wraps her mouth around the tip of his cock. She inhales him into her throat and sucks. She could feel his abdominal muscles stretch as her tongue swirls around his shaft. He moans as it is a different feel for him. His mind absorbs the feeling around his cock and does not try to understand how Sabine knows how to suck his cock.  _Be free_ rings through his mind and it makes it more enjoyable than his imagination. Then she opens her mouth wider to engorge his entire shaft to the back of her throat as his veins swell inside her mouth. She could hear him groan and his hips buckle and splashes the water. Thrawn looks at her submerged head and to stop himself from ejaculating, he lifts her above water. Thrawn preferred to cum inside Sabine’s vagina and not in her mouth. He is breeding her, a different kind of sexual enjoyment and satisfaction. Not to waste the functionality of his seed by ejaculating in her mouth. Yet, the day has been stressful and Sabine's fellatio alleviates his stress, quickly.

She stares at him to see if he is satisfied. “How’s that?”

Thrawn grabs her and gives her a quick kiss as he flips her on her stomach. He spreads her legs and slides his cock into her pussy as he stands there for a long moment before he thrusts into her hard.  Her exhale evokes a guttural pleasurable vocalization when he pushes inside her. He slides out and pushes deeper as he grunts each movement. Both of them get louder. He holds her shoulders and thrusts harder as he picks up the pace.  He hears Sabine’s breathless groans. Then his cock hoods with ribbons of ejaculate that enter her womb.  He stops his hard thrust and lets his seed flow into her womb as he pants from the intensity. He breathes with a commanding voice. “Ch’acin’t, that was very good.”

Her torso rests on the patio as she pants heavily and quavers in orgasm as Thrawn’s cock still swells and pulses inside her pussy with pleasured enjoyment. He whispers. “Sab'ika, what are you doing to me? Please, do not kill me.” His cock slides out of her pussy, as she stands strong, but stumbles out of the pool. He extends his hand to help her exit the pool. “Come let’s shower. We need to get ready for this event.”

Sabine holds Thrawn’s hand and follows him to the showers as he pulls her into his arms and kisses her. He grabs soap and a sponge, and then washes her body to foaminess. He kisses her as he, and then, he washes himself to foaminess.  He adds more soap to her backside to make her slippery and slides his cock into her pussy and thrusts hard against her into the shower wall. The water rinses the soap off her back when he is about to cum and he stops his orgasm. "I must conserve my energy, Sab'ika." He turns off the water and grabs a huge bath towel to dry her completely. He slathers lotion over her body, and retrieves a comb for her hair.  

Sabine stops him. “Raw, I know how to groom, myself. I can also put on my own make-up.” Sabine felt quivers throughout her body every time Thrawn touches her. It is like she is multi-orgasmic each time his fingertips touch her and it titillates her. She had to stop it. Her focus blurs with this orgasm he dropped off on her with him stopping his sexual prowess and orgasm. Sabine thought all men orgasm during sex. "Apparently not." She mumbles.

"What?" Thrawn asks, and then smiles. He gives her a kiss on her lips that causes Sabine to tremble. He laughs catching her and sits her on a chair and speaks evenly to her in regards to the seriousness of the event. “Sab'ika, as you know, we’re going to another Imperial event. And I need for you to behave more elusive than did at the Art Auction on Lothal. You do not have to speak to anyone there. And do not be afraid. But do not discuss our relationship with anyone, because it is none of their business. And promise me you don't show off your controversial views in regards to the Rebels at this event.”

“Why? You sound worried.” Sabine interrupts.

Thrawn’s eyes dart to hers. “You are more perceptive than most I have dated. I bet many have underestimated you, like Governor Arihnda Pryce. She will be there, you know. I suggest you use your perceptive abilities with intention, especially at this event.” He holds her chin as the droid enters with one of the tailored gowns as he acknowledges its presence. “Oh, you’re done. Thank you.” He turns to Sabine. “I hope you like this gown I picked out for you my dear Sab’ika.”

The gown is an off-white silk crepe formal that crosses at her breasts with tiny gold fleck gemstones throughout the gown. Gold gemstone sequins surround the edges. She puts it on and turns to Thrawn with a weak smile. She felt the gown is too expensive, but to Thrawn, she appears like a goddess unique for her.

“Beautiful.” Thrawn smiles and kisses her as he had put on a different formal uniform with a royal cerulean sash with gold embroidered edges. He wore black patent shoes than boots and his tunic did not have a belt, a different style for Imperials.  Both his tunic and pants are the same off-white as Sabine’s gown. He wore his rank insignia badge.

He opens a jewelry box that holds a lightning black opal pendant on a chain and puts it around her neck. Then hands her opal earrings unsure if he needed to put them in her ears. “I was unsure if your ears were pierced?”

“My ears have been pierced since I was a baby.” Sabine adds the black lightning opals earrings into her ears. “There.” She stares at him. “Where did you get these gemstones?"

"They were my mother's."

"Oh?" Sabine felt undeserving of such an honor.

"They go beautifully with your gown and I felt you should have real gemstones to wear." Thrawn said.

"Well, you look handsome, Raw." The only response Sabine felt she could reply.

Thrawn flashes a smile as he coifs the last few strands of hair. “Thank you, ch’acin’t. And you look exquisite.”

“I’m still concerned other Imperials will be able to identify me. I am unprotected without my weapons and if I fight, everyone will know I’m that Mandalorian -- the one they are looking for.” Sabine eats a breath mint to brush her teeth.

“You and I will have to trust each other that we complement each other. Besides, your only concern is the Emperor, Lord Vader, and maybe your friend, Grand Moff Tarkin.” He looks into her eyes. “You are my vesen, my woman, they hurt you, they will have to hurt me.”

“Grand Admiral, don’t you think that’s rather rash?” Sabine stares

He goes to his bureau for his credentials and documentation code cylinders. “No. You don’t want to go to this event?”

“Not really, but I must do my duty, right?” She chuckles uneasily. “Besides,” She uncrosses her hosiery legs in her skyhigh heels that match the dress and stands. She is still shorter than him. “I’d rather meet your, ‘people’ Mitth’raw’nuruodo, tout suite.”

Thrawn grins. “I see why that gambler dresses you with Canto Bight fashion designers.”

“Pardon?”

“The designs of your original gown are similar to a stolen one from a high-end fashion designer on Canto Bight. The sizing of said gown, which is rare to reproduce is by pure luck. But, ch’acin’t, the reason why you look seductive is solely a natural talent. I only enhance it by those fashion designers who created your original gown.” Thrawn explains. “No Imperial woman would wear a gown from Canto Bight. First, they are too expensive. Second, you need to style one specifically to your body measurements. The Canto Bight fashion designers are artisans and therefore very selective as to who they allow to wear their gowns.”

Sabine blinks a few moments unable to understand what Thrawn told her. Pompous glamour is not her thing. But, what is Thrawn really saying? Her concerns are to avoid this travesty when she returns to Krownest in Mandalorian space, if he does not kill her first. “If I don’t go, you said I’ll go to prison. Well, let me tell you, I could handle prison. I could handle the spice mines of Kessel, Grand Admiral.” Sabine eyes even.

“And I cannot handle this event without your elusive mysterious self to keep the gossips at bay, and them away from destroying my military career.” Thrawn stares at her. The tone of his voice sounds even with a tinge of frustration. The normal glow in his eyes dim and the red color dulls. Sabine blinks as she discovers the glow in his eyes indicates his mood. For a fraction of a second, he re-sparks the glow in his red eyes. “I need you as my glamorous decoy, while I tend to serious business. I do not need to worry if I failed to speak to some human, man or woman who wants to do more to me than to triumph over me for sexual conquest.” He mumbles. “Ravri'ihah fetishization.”

Thrawn's words stun Sabine in the heart. He sounds truthful with disgust and hurt. Her attempt is to make light of his anger with a jibe. “Ah Raw, you are very tasty.” She rises and walks to him as he sits in his chair while the droids complete his final grooming. “I am labeled, too. Often. But at this event, if they learn I’m a Rebel, well, you know, they will execute me. No trial. No detainment. And you...” She carefully adds his final code cylinder in his tunic’s side lapel.

“You’re beautiful, Sabine. Do you know that? Like a work of art.” He places his hand on her ass lifting her gown, then he pauses with a grimace. “If I start, I won’t be able to stop, and none of us will make this mandatory event, tonight.”

The Imperial Lambda Shuttle arrives on his rooftop.

Thrawn wraps an off-white fur stole around Sabine’s shoulders. “I got this stole for you.”

“Vor’e Grand Admiral. So...Where is this event?”

He grins and for a moment hesitant to tell her until they were in flight. “We are going to an Imperial Construction Module, actually in upper orbit of one of Lothal’s moons.”

“Are you taking me to a rave party, Raw?”

“A what?”

“A rave party, where they tell you the location at the last minute and anything can happen. They have them on several planets: Zeltron, Canto Bight, Ord Mantell, Nar Shadda -- though those locations are more adult in nature. Then there is Coruscant in the lower levels. You didn't go to one when you were on Coruscant?”

“You party, Sab’ika?”

“Well, no. I can party, but no. Mandalorians aren’t allowed into raves. Something about being rowdy and disintegrations.” Back to her chatty self.

Thrawn puts his hand on her leg. “My rowdy vesen.” He chuckles. “Whomever tries to suppress or tame you, ch’acin’t, woe to them. Art should never be suppressed, it should be displayed and treasured for all to see what it is to be come and as it should be.”

Sabine could tell Thrawn had modulated his voice to sound soothing and hypnotic. It calms her before her "execution" to an event with the Emperor. While she believes he truly does support the arts, then the rumors were true Thrawn held a collection of her own art from Lothal. However, a tingling sensation buzzes in her ear. _Believe some of what Thrawn says, but not everything._ Then a dutiful thought pops in her head, she needs to find a way to report to her group immediately.

For the moment, Thrawn did not treat her like a Rebel and it gnaws at her. It is as if he hears and values her comments. But her questions are not rebellious in nature, and his comments are not Imperial like General Hera Syndulla’s reports of him. Sabine’s comments are very provacative, and Thrawn answers her questions, honestly. Why would he lie to her or not answer her questions, she has had sex with him every 4 hours since they first met. _Is he breeding me?_ She thinks. _Am I okay with that?_   Then it dawns on her that she is okay with him breeding her and her bearing his younglings. Why? He will keep her and the Mandalorians safer than the Empire. Especially if the rumors of threats in the galaxy were true. Threats of a huge ship that can destroy entire planets and some odd, asteroid bioships that eat metal hulls per Canderous Ordo's legendary report. She squeezes her eyes to wipe away her rambling mind and stay in a present state to leave cares and worries for tomorrow.


	9. Ante Meridiem - Super Star Destroyer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Thrawn and Sabine first see a super star destroyer prototype. Part II

They arrive in high orbit, but it is not an Imperial Construction Module, it is a very large prototype ship the size of 2-3 Star Destroyers. Sabine fidgets her fingers when she sees it and glares at Thrawn when stands in awe of the ship.

Thrawn smiles as his private research proves his theory that these ships will be in the arsenal of the Empire as he recites. “Executor-class Star Dreadnought, with at least 5000 turbolasers and ion cannons. Two pits, 13 hull thrusters and an entire city substructure to protect personnel.” He grins as he watches it. “Amazing they brought the prototype here.”

“Sir, you are being hailed. Grand Moff Tarkin.” One of the Deathtroopers announces.

“Patch him through and deliver our landing codes.” Thrawn announces.

A huge hologram of Grand Moff Tarkin appears. “Grand Admiral Thrawn. I must meet with you, immediately when you land before the event. Is Governor Pryce with you?’

“Yes, let’s meet, and no, Governor Pryce is not with me. Perhaps I should contact her for you?”

His eyes dart to see who is with Thrawn. But Thrawn blocks his access to see his, “date”, conveniently. Thrawn’s hands behind him, send universal signals to Sabine. Thankfully, Sabine understands them as a Mandalorian warrior. She dims the lights of the passenger area as she glares at the Stormtroopers daring them to announce her.

Grand Moff Tarkin unaware that this display was happening stares at Thrawn. “For her sake, I expect her here, too. There are new developments afoot that we just discovered. I will contact her.”

“As you wish, Grand Moff Tarkin. We are in the tractor beam and we will be docking, soon.” Thrawn says.

The lambda shuttle enters the new docking bay, not filled with TIE fighters or other ships. But the bay will soon be filled with a complement of Imperial TIE Fighters. Sabine unbuckles herself and exits the landing plank on the arm of Thrawn. He gives no indication that this part of game has started, Sabine pinches him lightly and he smiles as his red eyes spark in a nod to her. _The game has started_ \-- all the reassurances she needs and her hips sway, like Lando told her to do.

Tarkin enters the hanger with his Stormtrooper detail and a couple of Imperial assistants. His swarthy warped grin is not for Thrawn, it is for the sway movements of Sabine as he recognizes her from the art auction. He realizes that Thrawn got his rest and relaxation. “Grand Admiral Thrawn, I see you made it safely with a very special friend.” He nods to Sabine.

Sabine has heard about Tarkin and the rumors about how problematic he is -- his misogynistic patriarchy. She curtsies low enough to see if he would sneak a peek at her bust. The Imperial idiot gawks at it. She grins lightly at his assistant, a women follows her curtsy with her eyes. She enjoys Sabine’s show, too.

Thrawn pretends he does not understand human genuflection for the moment, and says with strong military emphasis. “Indeed, her name is...well...hmm? What is your name dear?”

“Me’ven? Me’copaani? Kebiin Tal’hu’kaat Sur’haisse?” Sabine states in Mando’a with a very thick Krownest accent.

Thrawn closes his eyes to not laugh because he actually understands Mando’a, though he cannot speak it, yet. But he knew that Tarkin did not speak the Mandalorian language and his assistant did not, either. Only a language protocol droid could understand and one is not present.

Tarkin looks at Thrawn with a cheeky grin and pulls him away from Sabine. “For whatever it is you are doing with her, let’s hope it does not require her to speak to you.” Tarkin states evenly with a small lined smirk as he places dibs on knowing Sabine more once Thrawn is done with her. They leave.

Tarkin and Thrawn leave Sabine alone with two Deathtroopers from Thrawn’s security detail. The Deathtroopers look at her to escort her to the event. She looks up at them in fear. She hates abandonment, but fortunately, she found a way to make explosive detonator spikes she wore around her thigh for protection. She built them during Thrawn’s meetings in the refreshers away from his droids from one of Thrawn’s side arm ammunition, and a few other implements she could scrounge up in the kitchen, like the silverware still in the wrapping left unused. Weapons are a requirement for Sabine, they are her first step in protecting herself.

Sabine stares at two large inconspicuous doors in the absence of fear as the Deathtroopers grip their blasters tightly. The chill down her spine increases when she realizes these doors were her demise. She decides to fall with dignity, an explosion on a new Imperial ship. As she gets ready to go through with the act, the Deathtroopers open the doors to the room and--.

 

***

Thrawn listens intently to Tarkin as his heart sank when he left Sabine in the hanger. He knew about Tarkin’s proclivity to desire women he thought were bought. If Sabine spoke Basic, Tarkin would have known who she is immediately. She would have been killed and Thrawn would be detained. But when Sabine spoke Mando’a in an unfamiliar accent, Thrawn knew that Tarkin’s xenophobic biases would get the best of him and end his quest to learn who Sabine really is.

Tarkin’s concerns were not that of the painting, but of this prototype Star Dreadnought. Two were going to be built. Grand General Tagge would have one, and Tarkin searches for another Imperial officer to command the second ship. “I want you to command this second ship. I think you will make an excellent addition, Grand Admiral.”

“Sir, I prefer the 7th fleet and I thought those decisions are made by the Emperor.” Thrawn admonishes.

“Look at this ship! These threats you speak of in the Unknown Regions could never overcome the power of this type of ship.” Tarkin attempts to convince him.

Thrawn places his hand on one of the bulkheads and smiles. “It’s a lot of ship, but truly, I must decline.”

“Can I ask why?”

Thrawn sighs. “Honestly?” He sees Tarkin nod his head. “You have the Death Star, and I was hoping--”

“To be stationed on it?”

“No. Sir. Permission to speak freely?” Thrawn stares at him to wait for Tarkin’s approval, which he gives. “It’s Arihnda Pryce, my Lothal mission is over, but she wants my fleet to be her private military. Truthfully, I think she secretly communicates with the Rebel insurgency.”

Stone faced Tarkin is not moved by this predicament nor is surprised. “Lothal is a backwater planet. She is fortunate to have gotten as far as she has.” He stares at Thrawn. “In fact I had placed her with me aboard the Death Star after your final missions on Lothal, pending any mishaps, like Batonn.”

“I was awarded the rank of grand admiral after my victory on Batonn, Governor.” Thrawn replies.

“Yes, I know. The Emperor is aware of your situation, fully.” Tarkin’s smile warps if only slightly. “But, if you’re willing to kill insurgents with some collateral damage, then you would do more by commanding this second dreadnought.”

“You know, I never ordered the deaths of those people, Sir. And I suspect, you know who did. All rights and privileges should go to that person. That person is the hero in all of this.” Thrawn follows the cold steel blue eyes of Tarkin.

“She is not military trained. She has not moved her way up the ranks within any formal military, nor has she organized troops on her own planet, Lothal. That would be the first step in leadership if she had done that. She has milked all the resources of Lothal to buy her way to the top.” Tarkin snorts.

“Then name another in her steed.” Thrawn advocated.

Tarkin stiples his fingers. “Have you met Natasi Daala?”

“I know of her, but I have never met her. Is she rated to run a ship like this? If so, then I would support your efforts, pending verification.”

Tarkin stands and nods to Thrawn. “Grand Admiral, I am glad to have gotten that out of the way. I appreciate your honesty. Now, let’s get to this event and let’s not keep our ‘wives’ waiting.”

“Your assistant is your wife?” Thrawn asks incredulously, but does not correct Tarkin on his assessment of Sabine. He follows him to the repulsorlift as it takes them to the event area.

 


	10. Ante Meridiem - Whisky Tango Foxtrot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone must meet the Emperor. Part III: Whisky Tango Foxtrot

Grand Admiral Thrawn enters the lodge aboard a prototype Imperial Executor-class Star Dreadnought. He sees a small false fireplace aflame with beautiful dark wood panels on the walls. The bar construction and most furniture were of similar wood. Similar to the pubs on Corellia. Head of creatures from various systems hung around the lodge, from the terentereks of Drommand Kaas once slaughtered by the famed military leader, Grand Moff Odile Vaiken, to the wingspans of the pilotta thrantas of Alderaan. Several lit pedestals display Krayt Dragon pearls of Tatooine and kyber crystal shards of Ilum. A light yellow-green vapor flows through the lodge that smells like Lothalian greel-wood sap made into a narcotic incense to inebriate the guests and make them relax and loosen up to talk.  Thrawn is a Chiss and his metabolism is different. The narcotic incense left him to feel a slight buzz. Immediately, he searches for Sabine, because she is not immune from the effects. He needs her to remain sober, but, she is nowhere to be seen and his worry must be concealed.

Various Imperials in formal uniform attire much like the art auction. There was Chief of the Imperial Navy, Conan Antonio Motti with a red and black sash across his chest suggesting he is royalty. He is not. He spoke to the Director of Advance Weaponry, Orson Callam Krennic, who Thrawn has not met, but already distrusts based on overestimation of data for the weapons on the TIE Defender. Thrawn nods in deference to them, but they do not acknowledge him -- bigoted humanocentrists and with Thrawn's alien Cerulean complexion and red-in-red eyes, he is a threat.

Thrawn passes Grand General Cassio Tagge in a standard Imperial khaki uniform with a yellow sash of his nobility. He converses with Colonel Wulff Yularen who wears his off-white Imperial tunic and long black pants than the Jodhpurs breech flared pants. They actively discuss armor and blasters points as if they were going to hunt one of the beasts from different planets and place it on the wall. Thrawn stops and nods in deference to them.

“Ah, Grand Admiral Thrawn was just mentioning a new kind of blaster cartridge for those Tusklan beasts you discussed. That the way you hunt them is from all different directions, if you have time.” Yularen describes in grand style but seeks Thrawn’s confirmation.

“Is that true, Grand Admiral?” Tagge studies Thrawn’s eyes carefully.

“It depends on the bore of your weapon. If you want to hunt and kill quickly, then you use are large bore weapon. But your first shot must count and kill the Tusklan, or it will kill you. But if you want to attack on all sides, you use tiny stingflies that will kill the beast, slowly, ruin the pelt. The point is to teach you patience in the process of the hunt.” Thrawn nods to Tagge and Yularen. “If you would excuse me, I am looking for my--.”

Thrawn leaves without completing his sentence and walks past Admirals Screed and Rancit who wear gray double-breasted long jackets with button hangs. They horde hot hors d'oeuvres while the server droids bring them more. Thrawn nods to them, respectfully and they nod back. Disgusting eaters.

Admiral Garrick Versio enters the room with his entourage as Thrawn searches harriedly for Sabine. He wears his off-white Imperial tunic with his Jodhpur flared pants. He touches Thrawn to pull him aside. “This ship is huge--” He sees Thrawn’s rank and sash that represents his people. “I’m sorry, Sir. I--.”

Thrawn nods for Versio’s oversight. “It’s quite alright, I’m looking for a woman in an off-white and gold crepe dress -- she can’t speak Basic, yet.”

Versio’s brow frowns then turns to a laugh. “A woman like that does not need to speak that much, Grand Admiral. Good luck finding her before another Imperial does.”

Thrawn winces at that comment and continues his search. He notices that not many  spouses of the elite Imperials are in the lodge. Moreover, he does not see many women, Imperial officers or otherwise. It confounds him. More gender diversity at the art auction, than this ceremonial ship launching event. _The invitations were very selective_ \-- thinks Thrawn.

Grand Moff Tarkin walks up to him with a young woman who is a captain in a green short jacket with a long skirt that has a front slit. “Grand Admiral Thrawn, I would like to introduce you to Commander Natasi Daala.” His swarthy smile moves even across his face.

“Grand Admiral Thrawn. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard great things about you.” She grins as she extends her hand to shake Thrawn’s hand, boldly.

Thrawn shakes her hand with a strong grip, and stares directly into her eyes. “Commander. I hear you are an expert slicer and you crack codes of our--” He mouths. “Rebel insurgents?”

She giggles by Thrawn’s compliment with humility. “I doubt you can say all that. I just created a program that predicts the Scum’s maneuvers.”

“Pardon? Scum?” Thrawn asks blithely as he to scan the room for Sabine.

“Oh?” She laughs and says casually. “Rebel scum. Everyone uses that term. Sir? Are you looking for someone, Grand Admiral?”

Then in a corner alone, Sabine stands in front of a piece of holographic art. She removes a purple and orange like tiny perfume spraypaint bottles and paints over the Imperial art quickly. Thrawn balks when he watches her graffiting. Sabine draws Lothal’s animal life, like loth-cats over the art as she vandalizes. She thinks she is hidden. He wonders how long it will take the Empire learn it is her, for he already knows. Then she looks around to see if anyone is watching her as she scans the room. She catches Thrawn’s red-in-red eyes that glows when she sees him. Sabine shifts her jaws for her vandalism in front of Thrawn as he puts one hand in his pocket and stares at her from a distance. She works through the crowd and enters into Thrawn’s talking group hearing him explain. “I believe that currently we have to try several tactics to pound hard against the Rebels’ backside with a heavy thrust...err...I mean threat.”

“How do you plan to do that without expanding the military.” Daala asks.

“Yes, Thrawn, we have several concurrent projects.” Tarkin chimes.

“Managing them one individual at a time, vigorously, and dismantling their defenses, after intense study.” Thrawn looks at Sabine’s arrival into the group. “May I uh, introduce you to...my date.”

Tarkin and Daala tilt their heads at the same time to learn her name.

“Ni gai Sabine aliit Wren.” Sabine says rapidly in Mando’a with a thick Krownest accent.

Tarkin and Daala stare at her attempting to follow her and then look at Thrawn.

“I’m a Chiss, I have no idea what she said.” Thrawn laughs as he finds this play on words amusing.

Sabine looks up at him as a droid server doles shots of whisky. Thrawn grabs two, one for Sabine, and one for him. “Watch it, it burns your tongue.” Thrawn warns her, and then downs his with a grimaces from the alcohol burn. He watches Sabine imbibes her similarly and does not grimace. Tarkin and Daala drink theirs and grimace from the alcohol burn.

Tarkin speaks. “Whisky’s good. Where’s it from?”

“One of Lothal’s moons.” A new voice enters the fold from Governor Arihnda Pryce. “Governor Tarkin. Commander. Err...guest.” She turns to Thrawn with a slight sneer. “Grand Admiral. I provide the best when I hear the Empire brought me a Super Star Destroyer prototype to my planet.”

“Yes, well, after all you have been through in this last planetary rotation, it seems that you would hardly have time to attend a function such as this.” Tarkin announces.

Daala presses Tarkin inquiring what he means. He whispers in her ear about the art auction fiasco. “Really? Her?” Daala exclaims, and then laughs as she walks off to catch a friend of hers, Ysanne Isard in a one shouldered orange dress that fit her form perfectly.

Pryce glares at Daala, and then to Thrawn who ignores her ire and pats Sabine on her ass to draw attention to her. Pryce speaks up. “I must say the thieves have been caught, but the painting has been destroyed.”

Thrawn knew that was a lie as Sabine tugs at him playfully indicating the refresher. “Ok. No dawdling.”

Tarkin speaks. “How does she understand what you’re saying Thrawn?”

Thrawn shrugs. “You know, I really do not know?  But this one they said is truly pleasurable.” Tarkin and Thrawn watch Sabine walk away with a hip sway to the refresher.

Pryce interrupts. “I hate to interrupt your patriarchy, but honestly, Tarkin, your commander? And you Thrawn, you got an escort from Zeltron to fulfill your needs?”

“That will be quite enough, Arihnda!” Tarkin speaks up. “You are fortunate that you have not been implicated with this Rebel plot.”

“I had nothing to do with it!”

“But it was your art auction event and you lost a piece of the Emperor’s own collection.” Tarkin chides.

“Arihnda, revise your report.” Thrawn stares at her, and then sees in the distance a young Loyalty Commission Officer Sinjir Rath Velus, which might make it interesting. With a slight grin he offers an alternative in lowered tone. “The painting was stolen by the Rebels and you may know them, personally. If you confirm this intelligence the Empire might absolve you.”

“No Thrawn! You do not get to tell me what to do. No one will. Lothal will be the center of technology in the Empire, and you and I could have made that happen, together. But you thought it better to exclude me in your little plans when you brought that-that -- whore!” Pryce snarks.

“Then Arihnda, why don’t you explain it to the Emperor himself when he and Lord Vader arrive.” Tarkin states flatly. He catches another shot of whisky to drink.

“What? The Emperor will be here?” Pryce shouts so every Imperial present heard it.

The Imperials in the room stop and all eyes were on her and she slows her movements, and glares at Thrawn, but Tarkin blocks anymore verbal attacks on Thrawn.

Daala chats with Isard who interrupts. “Pardon me, Natasi. Is that the Arihnda Pryce who killed Juhahir?”

“I think so. She has no military training and killed an ISB agent. I heard she can fight, but rumor has it that a little Mandalorian girl beat her.” Daala answers, just as Sabine exits the refresher.

Sabine acts like she cannot understand the full conversation as she washes her hands, but Isard adds her tiny side gun to her thigh holster. “Oh. I thought we were in here alone?” Isard blushes to a deep red then snorts. “Look, we know you understand Basic, courtesan, so let us tell you this: do not tell anyone of my weapon, and I won’t kill you. Understand?”

Sabine bites her lips as Isard is slightly taller than her in her pumps her eyes follow the fear in Isard’s eyes. She opens her bag and adds some lip gloss on her lips, carefully and decides to expose herself a little. “You need to place the TX32 barrel toward your inner thigh, so when you grab for a shot, it will improve your aim. You only have 6 shots and 2 lethal targets on a body. I’m sure you know that Director Isard.”

Both Natasi Daala and Ysanne Isard eyes widen then they turn to each other and laugh profusely. “You little faker!” They say in unison.

Isard quickly washes her hands and races to Sabine. “Are you an assassin? Because I’m hiring and I must say you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“We girls should stick together.” Daala chimes. “You are on a highly secured base. Do the Rebels own you? Because the only way you’d know the type of my gun is if you are one.”

Sabine stops to look at them, and then gives a sly grin.

Isard looks as Daala and offers. “Your secret is safe with us. But good luck with fucking that alien, I guess that’s your thing. Just know he’s not human. He can't give you the kind of life you're desire with another human male. Most aliens are devoid of emotions.”

Daala says. “Hey, don’t feel bad, sometimes, you have to fuck who you want, too to get ahead in this Empire -- I am.”

Isard blurts. “You are?”

Daala says. “And he’s damn good.”

They laugh together and then looks at Sabine. She closes her eyes to draw an image of what it be like to punch their faces into the mirror. She hates gossip and Thrawn’s xenophobic warning proves to be true. She slowly opens her eyes and stares into their faces with a smile. “Oh, what do I know? My gown is fashioned by Canto Bight designers and I can dance the Zeltronian Courtesan Tango.” Isard and Daala chuckle staring at her body grinning at one another.

Sabine giggles as she exits the refresher and bumps into the Loyalty Officer Sinjir Rath Velus who drinks whisky on ice in a lowball glass.

Daala and Isard follow and see the Loyalty Officer, but only know him by Imperial insignia. They look at him and hug one another not wanting to cross words with Sinjir in fear of his report. They stop bullying Sabine and quickly leave in separate directions.

Sabine stares in the middle of his chest with the Imperial cog emblem. She looks up to his lightly tan face.

Sinjir takes a drink as the ice clink against the lowball glass and smiles slightly at Sabine. “Your graffiti on that holographic art is very good. It adds to the dullness of this place.”

“You like art, too?” Sabine mumbles.

“Does Grand Admiral Thrawn know exactly who you are?” Sinjir counters.

Sabine nods.

Sinjir closes his eyes to process his next comment. “Everything that you are? That no one here can harm you in the Empire despite your -- past -- alliances?”

Sabine narrows her eyes in confusion. “What is your name?”

“Loyalty Officer Sinjir Rath Velus from the Loyalty Commission.” He places his hands behind his back.

“Ranov’l’alor?” Sabine asks in her heavily accented Krownest Mando’a.

“With the little Mandalorian I know, then yes, the Imperial Secret Service under ISB.” Sinjir prides himself for his translation skills and knowing what Sabine spoke. He takes a more somber look. “Do these Imperials assembled here know about you?”

“Ner’aliit naka’mir.” She looks away.

Sinjir puts his hands on his hips. “Well, girl, how are you going to get yourself out of this mess you cooked up? Will you shoot us all?” He chuckles from his own joke.

Sabine giggles from Sinjir’s genuflection and quietly whispers into his ear. “Grand Admiral Thrawn's thrusts are quite vigorous and I like fucking him.”

Sinjir looks at her a long time and then off in the distance, another Chiss, a woman enters the area very pregnant with an Imperial man, a commander. Sinjir tilts his head and starts to piece the motivations as they are presented to them. “How much do you know about the Chiss?”

“Other than recent events? Nothing other than the myths and stereotypes spacers tell. Guess as the secret service you get more access.” Sabine replies.

“Do you know that Chiss?” Sinjir points toward the Chiss woman.

“Nayc.” Sabine looks up at him.

“Something is going on.” Sinjir he takes a deep sip of his liquor. “Thrawn better have your best interests at heart, because if he does not, the Empire will have Hell to pay and it all started with this Chiss invasion. Are you sure he knows everything about you, Sabine?”

Sabine shrugs. “He says he does.”

“The Emperor and Lord Vader will be here in minutes. You must be with Grand Admiral Thrawn to pay homage to His Majesty and Lord Vader. None of this Rebel Scum osik. Understand?” Sinjir orders.

Sabine stares at him and complies with a grin. “Okay.”

“I will find a way to get you back to Mandalorian Space shortly. It might be 2-3 days before I can do that. But, I’ll find a way.” Sinjir thinks.

Sabine presses her lips and admits. “I did not steal that painting. It’s a weird painting, though.”

“I know. I saw both of you. I know who stole the painting. Governor Pryce does not. I don’t know why she does this and she has been warned.”

Sabine raises her brows in confusion, and then rolls her eyes as she pieces Pryce's ignorance together.

Sinjir watches Thrawn from a distance. Thrawn approaches the other Chiss in congratulatory gestures and hugs of joy. “Sabine, do not discuss our conversation.” He gently presses Sabine’s side and pushes her toward this Chiss gaggle as Thrawn finds Sabine and welcomes her.

Sabine scoots across the wide area to meet another Chiss, a woman, who is very pregnant. Thrawn welcomes her and in a lowered tone. “Sab'ika, you are free to speak Basic here." Then he turns to the Chiss woman, "Ch'abcesit Ar’alani, Sabine Wren of Krownest in Mandalore Space.” Thrawn shifts and stares into Sabine’s eyes. “Sabine aliit Wren this is my Admiral Ar’alani.”

Sabine bows her head and looks at the Chiss woman incredulously due to her pregnancy. “You are very pregnant, Admiral -- that’s ashla.”

Ar'alani's confusion as her Basic is limited. Eli Vanto whispers to her what Sabine said and Ar'alani laughs rubbing her stomach. "Yes. Yes. Yes. So tired."

“Sabine, this is Commander Eli Vanto, he helped me get accustomed to this sector of the galaxy.” Thrawn introduces.

Vanto places his hand out to take Sabine’s hand.  “Hi, Sabine. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Sabine places her hand carefully to Vanto and he lifts it to his lips to kiss the back of her hand. The astonishment on her face causes her to squeak. “Why, Commander, so formal.”

“Formality is my duty, milady.” Vanto smiles.

“You’re from Wild Space?” Sabine asks.

“How could you tell?” Vanto says almost sarcastically.

Sabine giggles. “Much to say about Wild Space Hospitality toward a Mandalorian verses that from the Core or Outer Rim.”

Thrawn intervenes. “Eli, I wonder if you are flirting with my vesen?”

Vanto replies succinctly. “Veah tuzir Ch'ah ch'acen'bocat veo Ch'ah csarcican't cart ch'a ticsi bitbo.” Clear and concise Cheuhn, the Chiss language.

Ar’alani laughs holding her stomach as she looks at Sabine approvingly, like a sister who likes her brother’s new girlfriend. “Ch'ah ch'acacah len, Mitth’raw’nuruodo.”

Thrawn smiles. “Ch'ah k'ir, cssi.” His arm drops down Sabine’s back gently as his hand rests at the small of her back. “Sab’ika, are we okay?”

“Lek, Jatne Vod.” Sabine says in her strong Krownest Mando’a accent.

Vanto adds. “And she’s Mandalorian, Grand Admiral?  You must love taking huge risks.”

Thrawn smiles. “Calculated risks. Sab'ika is not a problem at all. Besides, is that not why I’m exiled from Chiss Space?”

Everyone except Sabine laughs aloud. She could see how friendly they are with each other. She did not understand Cheuhn, but she knew they were discussing her. Once she had a chance, she would teach herself the language. She fidgets again as she felt the hairs on her neck rise.

Behind her a new group enters the room. Royal Red Guards march in as they surround the Emperor. Behind him, Darth Vader and his 501st Stormtroopers. Her stomach churns with nausea suddenly for no reason. She looks at Ar’alani who holds a very cool demeanor. The Emperor goes to a pre-assembled throne and sits as all the Imperials kneel. Sabine feels a tug of Thrawn’s hand telling her to kneel as he brows narrow slightly. Sabine kneels and looks around for any new people who enter. Secretively, a young woman, roughly Sabine’s age appears. It was Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan. A sigh of relief from Sabine is almost heard, she realizes she is not the only Rebel operative here.

Then the Emperor lifts his hand up with short move. “Rise.” He looks around the room.

The Emperor’s royal crier speaks. “His Majesty, the Emperor and his apprentice, Lord Vader is ready to receive your homages to him.” The Royal Red Guard, Deathtroopers and Stormtroopers rally the attendees into a line for every Imperial Officer to offer their homage.

Director Orson Krennic is the first and he kneels before the Emperor who speaks a few words to him. Krennic bows his head a moves to Darth Vader and proudly appears before him. Vader nods and Krennic scampers off to his ship to go back to work. The royal crier calls “Director Orson Callam Krennic.”

Admirals Screed and Rancit walk together and kneel. The Emperor says a few words to them and they move past Vader.  They leave to their ships to get back to their work. The royal crier calls “Admiral Terrinald Screed and Admiral Dodd Rancit”.

Grand General Casio Tagge with his wife bow and curtsy before the Emperor and he smiles approvingly and Vader nods accordingly and they move into the back of room near the bar and food to stay longer. The royal crier calls, “Grand General Casio Tagge and his lovely wife from the planet Nixor.”

Grand Moff Tarkin with Commander Natasi Daala and Director Ysanne Isard bow and curtsy before the Emperor. He smiles approvingly and Vader nods. They move to the back of the room near the bar and food to stay longer. The royal crier calls, “Grand Moff Tarkin, Commander Natasi Daala and Director Ysanne Isard of the Outer Rim and Coruscant.”

Admiral Motti kneels in a cocky manner before the Emperor as he spoke a few words Motti stands and stares at Vader who does not nod. Motti moves to the back of the room near the bar and food to stay longer. The royal crier calls, “Admiral Conan Antonio Motti of the planet, Seswenna.”

Thrawn’s brows rise because the protocol is varied. Those who stay and those who leave is stochastic. He studies the pattern longer.

Princess Leia Organa kneels before the Emperor who speaks to her quietly. She stares at Vader and felt a cold statue appear toward her. Princess Leia is allowed to stay, and she did, however, she felt she should leave. As she views the line, she sees Sabine waiting with that Chiss officer. She wants to speak to Sabine to determine if she is fine. But she knew she should not or it could jeopardize their cover. The royal crier calls, “Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan and her court.” This game calculates to pretend nothing happens and keep with the flow. Leia goes to her most vicarious threat, which at the time is Tarkin. She speaks to him about the weather on Eriadu, given the global droughts they were having due to unstable climate.

Governor Arihnda Pryce goes to kneel before the Emperor who speaks to her. She rises very quickly and runs to her ship in tears without acknowledging Vader. Unbecoming behavior of an Imperial Officer. The royal crier calls, “Governor Arihnda Pryce of Lothal, the planet we are currently orbiting, Lothal.”

Thrawn crosses his arms unsure if he should console Pryce or take his chances before the Emperor with his date, Sabine. He looks to the doors that Pryce ran through and moves, as Sabine’s hand grabs him and she shakes her head in the negative.

Sabine’s stare is as deadly as her whispered sneer. “Nayc, Mitth’raw’nuruodo. She has done wrong and must pay for her mistakes, just like the others who left.”

Thrawn feels Sabine’s icy stare that sends chills down his spine, but opts to stay with her and knows whatever is happening, he will keep it cool. He has met the Emperor and Vader before, but there is an chain of command and hierarchy. Why feel fear, now? He is a warrior. Fear is of no use to him.

Then Thrawn saw Sinjir Rath Velus walk by himself and kneel before the Emperor. Sinjir looks up to the Emperor’s eyes which has superstitions in what not to do. Sinjir rose in pride and nods to Vader and walks carefully to the back of the room near the bar and the food to stay. The royal crier calls, “Loyalty Officer Sinjir Rath Velus of the Loyalty Commission of Coruscant.”

Yularen is next and is able to pass and stay. The royal crier calls, “Colonel Wulff Yularen of the Imperial Security Bureau of Coruscant.”

Then, Thrawn’s and Sabine’s turn. Sabine clings to his arm tightly as they both kneel. She could tell the Emperor’s eyes move between them and then he speaks to Thrawn. “You captured her in manner unexpected. Your position and qualifications are superior than most assembled here, Thrawn.” Thrawn looks up the Emperor in confusion. “Oh, you actually think you brought a Rebel spy before me?” The creaky laugh of the Emperor becomes louder. “Rise, both of you.”

Thrawn rises faster than Sabine to help her. Once on her feet, the craggy hand of the Emperor touches her stomach. Sabine falls backward in a dizzy spell as if she had the wind knocked out of her from her gut. Thrawn narrows his red eyes and catches Sabine. He carries her in his arms. The Emperor cackles and murmurs to Vader. “Mandalorians willful unlike any other.”

Darth Vader who usually does not speak at these events responds to the Emperor. “A different kind. Those bloodlines can be to our benefit.”

Thrawn hears their words in wonderment. _Did we meet our demise?_ He looks to Eli Vanto and Admiral Ar’alani who kneel before the Emperor. Then he realizes Sabine and him had not been announced by the royal crier.

The royal crier announces, “Grand Admiral Thrawn of the Chiss Ascendancy, and Countess Sabine Wren of Mandalore.”

Thrawn stops and looks at a waking Sabine. He lets her feet touch the floor and she stands slowly holding on to him. The rest of the Imperials stare at Sabine Wren who looks diminutive.  Thrawn asks softly. “Countess of Mandalore — MiLady?”

“Yes.” Sabine looks at him, then avoids his gaze. “Ner’aliit -- my family told me to be silent about my title. Guess the Emperor and Lord Vader knew about it and decided to announce it.”

“Sab’ika. My apologies. MiLady. You never hide these facts from me...err...I mean, the Empire.” Thrawn concedes in a hushed tone. He grabs the back of her neck carefully and kisses her lips. “You have to go back to Mandalore and I will have to request to escort you back there.”

“What? No. I have to stay for my…” Sabine says in shock. “I can find my way, back to Mandalore.”

Princess Leia Organa interrupts. “Countess! I am so glad you are here. I’ve been waiting for you.” She looks at her and nods. “I have contacted the Mandalore when she told me you were visiting Lothal.”

Sabine shakes her head. “Bo-Katan?”

“Yes. I know her. The Mandalore.” Leia nods to convince Sabine to leave with her,

Tarkin speaks. “Grand Admiral, I want you to take your Star Destroyer and your fleet, and escort the Countess back to her homeworld without any incident. As for your fleet--”

“Belay that order. The Grand Admiral will take the Chimaera and the 7th fleet to Mandalore, Grand Moff Tarkin.” Darth Vader steps forward with a new order.

“Vader, we need the other ships to protect the asset and any Rebel incursions at Scarif.”

“The Grand Admiral needs his fleet.” Vader turns to Thrawn. “Countess, we extend our assistance to Mandalore if you should ever need it.”

Vader’s mechanical voice box shakes her to her bones and Sabine backs into Thrawn. “Yes, Lord Vader.”

Thrawn holds Sabine hand. “We will leave Lothal as soon as the Chimaera is ready.” He backs away from the group with Sabine to board his shuttle. Thrawn walks briskly as he tightly grips Sabine’s hand as she trots behind him. Thrawn's calculations have to change as thoughts roll through his head. Sabine being royalty and Mandalorian royalty changes his plan for her. He has to re-calculate. 


	11. Ante Meridiem - Lothal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more time on Lothal. Part IV: Lothal

Before they get to shuttle, Sinjir Rath Velus aims a gun at Thrawn. “We meet again, Grand Admiral. This time you have abducted a member of Mandalorian royalty. Don’t you know Mandalorians do not take kindly to outsiders. Especially aliens, and in particular, Chiss. Let me see. I can see the HoloNet News now, ‘A Chiss Assaults A Member of Mandalorian Royalty’. That is some hellfire fury that the Empire does not need.”

“What do you want Officer Rath Velus?” Thrawn calmly asks.

“You will need my help. I’m in this strange mission you’ve concocted.” Sinjir exclaims.

“Why do you wish to help me?” Thrawn evenly looks at Sinjir.

“I’m not helping you. I’m helping the Countess.” Sinjir smiles. “And don’t worry, it is not about stealing your woman.” He stops as he wonders if he should share his sexual orientation. “Oh, blue is definitely not my color.” He walks up the shuttle ramp and takes a seat.

Thrawn narrows his eyes, and then studies Sabine giggling as she follows Sinjir. Thrawn straps Sabine close to him into the shuttle seat and stares into her eyes, deeply. “I guess you got paroled and are free from your punishment.”

“Your punishment is harsh according to your two Sith Lords.” Sabine replies.

Sinjir shifts positions and chuckles.

Thrawn glares at Sinjir and studies Sabine. “How do you know that’s what they are?”

“A Mandalorian knows. We’ve been tracking them for nearly two decades. But, the Empire loves power as well as you Imperials do, too.” Sabine said staring at Sinjir.

Thrawn shakes his head from Sabine's rebel traitorous logic that conflicts all that he knows about Mandalorian culture. It was a short flight from high orbit space to Thrawn’s penthouse on Lothal.

As shuttle lands, Sabine exits first. Thrawn asks Sinjir a few questions. “This is my home while I am stationed on Lothal. I must migrate my computer data to my ship. It will take a few hours. Then I will leave to take Sabine to Mandalorian space.”

Sinjir stands and crosses his arms.

Sabine races back into the shuttle. “Do you have a place to stay? I ordered groceries. Apparently, Thrawn says he knows how to cook like a gourmet cook. And well...I kinda convinced the Deathtroopers to steal a slat of whisky.”

Thrawn mouth drops. “You want me to be demoted?”

“Raw, you have all this space with the latest technology, and you’re never here. Besides, I’m sure Sinjir has more work to do on Lothal, right?”

“I am to return you to your home, Countess.” Sinjir replies.

“Call me Sabine, and whoops, you already returned me to my home, for now. Mandalorian space is crazy and you have to like ale. I saw you imbibe hard liquor. Ale is not your thing. Besides, most of the guys stink on Mandalore, they’re lug-heads. At least on Lothal, the guys here bathe.” Sabine explains.

“Countess, my dating life is not--”

Another shuttle lands next to Thrawn’s shuttle. Two people exit the ship. Commander Eli Vanto and Admiral Ar’alani. “Shh! Raw, I invited them, too. Now you have to prove your barbecuing skills.”

Thrawn palms his face with his hand and he leaves to his closet to change into more casual attire. He grabs Sabine around the corner and quietly speaks to her. “Ch’ain’t, you should have asked me.”

“Raw, you are wound up." Sabine unclasps his uniform and palms his face. "I’m not planning an intergalactic kegger. If I did, there’d be Mandalorians. It’s just a small dinner to calm everyone down from the stress before a hyperspace jump.” Sabine looks up to him. “It's just a very tiny party that will unwind them before hyperspace travel. My father told me that Tarkin’s father use to have parties like these on Sojourn, a strange planet that no one can find on the maps. They relaxed for a few hours.  Well...it’s just to relax. Besides, a Chiss woman is here, one of your kind, and she’s huge, she needs to rest before the flight back to Chiss Space.”

“I was going to contact Eli when I unwound to see if they wanted to go into the city.” Thrawn speaks.

“There’s no places in the city, Raw.” She rolls her eyes and sighs. “I’ll cook if you don’t want to. I’m not such a bad cook.”

“No, ch’ain’t.” Thrawn takes off his uniform and puts on heather gray athletic loose pants with a black t-shirt with a white Imperial emblem. He wears his slide sandals. He calls for his droids. “Assemble another room for all our guests. A couple in 1 sized bed, and an individual in similar sized bed.” He stares at Sabine as she takes off her clothes slowly not realizing how seductive it appears to him. She wears a black wrap dress that is for lounging, and flip flops. “Make sure the rooms look comfortable and homely with simple flowers.”

The droids nod. “As you wish.” They race away as ordered.

Thrawn looks at Sabine, who is bent over to lotion her legs and he grabs her and starts kissing her passionately against the wall. “I’ve been waiting to do that since I learned you were countess.”

“So, you kebiin troan tal’hukaat Chissese, you only want me for my title?” Sabine smiles.

“This cerulean-face, red eyed Chiss will take your title as I bend you over this bed here, and thrust my manhood hard inside you.” Thrawn’s attempt to talk dirty to Sabine.

She laughs and pecks his cheek. “We have guests and we should entertain them. I’m amazed your friend Governor Pryce did not try to do this.”

“Never. She wanted a scene for everyone to see. She had to be a galactic actress.” Thrawn puts his hands on Sabine’s hips. “Please don’t tell me you invited her?”

“Maybe I did to make it more exciting for your Admiral and Commander. They need some comedy given there will be lots of crying soon, once their baby is born.”

“You know, Chiss don’t give birth, anymore. It is all in vitro fertilization and ex vivo placenta and tank births.” Thrawn replies.

“Oh? Then why is she pregnant?” Sabine looks over his face.

“Pregnancy and birth by a woman is more...natural for younglings. Birth by women stabilizes youngling development.” Thrawn grins and ventures. “Let’s hope we have conceived.”

Sabine kisses his lips as she pulls away she searches his eyes to see that he is serious. He embraces her, tightly. They exit their room, as they held hands together.


	12. The Strength of the Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is broken into pieces?

The Rebel Strike teams stalks into the Ghost under fire as the ship jumps to hyperspace after saving Bo-Katan, the famous Mandalorian Death Watch leader from prison on Mandalore. Sabine Wren, Zeb Orrellios, and a new Jedi they picked up, Jax Pavan watch in shock as Bo-Katan sneers at Fenn Rau. Rau takes the brunt of Bo-Katan’s vicious words.

“You knew the clones were chipped when you trained them on Kamino and you told us nothing about it when Ahsoka Tano arrived to capture Mandalore back from Darth Maul? How could you do that to us Fenn? I am not talking about a Death Watch matter or a Protector matter. It was about freeing Mandalore at that time.” Bo-Katan presses Rau's armored chest pushing him back into the wall.

“Bo, you have to understand, I no longer worked for the Forgotten Ones. That was a long time ago.” Rau pleads. “I did not know that the chips meant anything.”

“Shut up Fenn, you knew from the start. The Kaminoans add everything purposefully and you made it incumbent upon yourself to NOT notify Death Watch command because of some outmoded petty code from a war that we no longer fight! How could you be so stupid, you idiot!” Bo-Katan pushes him only. Jax and Zeb held her back. “Let go of me. This is a Mandalorian matter, it has nothing to do with Jedi or-or…big purple cats.”

“Lasat…” Everyone chimes in on correcting Bo-Katan.

“Fine, whatever. But you put everyone risk Fenn over that pettiness and that is not the Mandalorian way. It is no wonder Mandalore fell to the Empire.”

Zeb Orrelios intervenes. “We should table this discussion for another—“

Both Bo-Katan, Fenn Rau and Sabine Wren speak. “Shut it!”

“This is a Mandalorian matter, Lasat, warrior to warrior -- abstain from speaking or we'll kill you.” Bo-Katan announces to him sizing him up with her wild killer eyes that would fight a Lasat if it came to that.

“Okay…I’m out of it.” Zeb walks to a crate and sits, quietly.

“Sure, fine job you left your traitorous past, Lieutenant…” Rau eek out.

Bo-Katan backhands Rau hard bloodying his lip as she preys upon him with more sneers. “Fenn do you have any idea what I have had to contend with? I doubt you would care. I had a pacifist father that once fought for your side. A sister who sold Mandalorians out to the Black Sun in drugs and then the Republic and Jedi--no offense.” She looks over to Jax.

“None taken.” Jax belts out as Kanan places his hand on his shoulder and shakes his head to not respond.

“And do you know what it is like to be choked by a Sith, Fenn?" Does not let him answer. "No, you would not. You would never know what it is like to fight the Sith because you never have. You have not had the faintest idea of what they can do to your entire operation. Well, I do. I had to watch Commander Pre Vizsla be beheaded because of our old warrior codes. I had to watch a Zabrak make a piss poor Mandalorian a pitiful leader blaspheming all that is Mandalorian.”

“But, that is how you traitorous Mandalorians do it.”

Bo-Katan races up to him grabbing his neck to a choke and holds him higher than her own height. Remarkable for an escaped scrawny convict who was starved as a torture mechanism.  Her words seethe through her teeth each spitting her rage at Rau. “I watched Sundari burn. Only to Mandalore to eradicate those Maul idiots and then hear that coward gave the planet to the Empire. This fight was never about Death Watch or the Protectors.”

“It was about Mandalore, Bo…” Rau manages to squeeze out his words through the choke.

Bo-Katan drops him in a solemn voice. “No Fenn, it was about all of us. Our ways - Mandokarla. It is what my father, my sister the Duchess and several Mandalorians fought and died for…” She turns to Sabine who sits fearfully and does not look Bo-Katan in the eye. “Like Sabine’s mother. Following the codes for the Mandokarla so that we may live.”

Rau places his head into his fingers and absorbs what he has been told. After a long moment in silence he speaks. “I apologize Bo. Please accept my words. I ask for your forgiveness. Warriors do forgive, right?”

“They can.” Sabine speaks up when she feels queasy suddenly and quiets sipping on her fizzy soda.

Bo-Katan turns to look at both of them and frowns at Sabine’s mannerisms. She looks at all the other Rebels and their faces filled with cheesy grins, bright and happy to accomplish a simple goal of conferring her release from prison. The Twi’lek pilot named Hera Syndulla walks toward Sabine with another fizzy soda and stands across from Bo-Katan. Bo-Katan feels Hera's eyes sizing her up. It was not to fight her, but much like her sister’s look, like the Duchess Satine Kryze's look, a look of dismay. Hera's lips slightly frowned because she still loves and approves Bo-Katan's actions, though she does not like her tactics. Maybe it was the fresh spring greenness of her eyes and skin color. Maybe it is how Twi’leks are known to be seductive. Bo-Katan lowers her shoulders and sinks her posture to relax and exhales her breath loudly. “Okay Fenn, Protectors win. We must save the Mandalorian Way your way.”

Rau could not grin larger than he already was smiling. “And kill Gar Saxon's forces?”

“Not our problem.” Bo-Katan enunciates tightly as she looks to Kanan.

It is as if Jax felt Bo-Katan’s eyes melt right through him. “What? Why do you look at me like that?” Her glare nearly topples him.

Bo-Katan smirks and shakes her head at Rau to watch Jax Paven squirm under interrogation pressure. Rau glares at Jax and realizes what Bo-Katan is doing to him in astonishment. “No!”

“They reek of the Force. The Mandalorian Way, right? You know Fenn. We must return to just that. A power that the Commander had before that Maul fool stole it from him.” Bo-Katan crosses her arms walking to Jax as she watches remnants of his eyeballs dart from left to right.

Fenn Rau had not used his Force User Hunter training in the Mandalorian Way for years. He had not practiced it. It was a lost art in the martial arts forms the old warrior Mandalorian codes taught. The more interactions a Mandalorian had with Force users the training would lose its acuity and strength. Like a muscle, Force User Hunters had to exercise and strength the ability. Mandalorian martial arts were the best in training how to become Force User Hunters and subduing prey. Since the Mandalorian Civil War, the martial art and its practices died in order for financing the war with odd jobs around the galaxy. Then the pacifists, like Duchess Satine, banned any old warrior code Mandalorian martial arts. Commander Pre Viszla preserved some of it, but not it entirely.

Fenn Rau studies Bo-Katan from her reactions and wonders how she became so highly skilled it. He recalls the rumors: Bo-Katan’s mother was a Death Watch Assassin and trained under Meltch Krakko; Bo-Katan was a Force User herself, but she has never shown feats of the Force or for certain, others would know, such as the Jedi she encountered; And Bo-Katan, on her mother’s side, is a descendant of the Mandalorians that fought the Force User in the Old Republic times and her family held the “biblical text” of how to defeat Force Users. None of that is true. For now, Fenn Rau knew Bo-Katan knew of the Force Users and their exposures.

It was Sabine Wren who squawked first. “Yes. Maul has been on this ship and he—“

Bo-Katan raises her hand for her to stop. “Where is he?”

“You had Maul on this ship?” Rau yells to the Ghost crew incredulously. His anger builds as he sees Maul as the destroyer of Mandalore. One of the main facts that Death Watch and the Protectors agree, wholeheartedly.

“Where is he?” Bo-Katan sneers as she enunciates it.

“He took off in his ship claiming ‘he’s alive’ from a holocron meld that we…” Jax stops when he feels the glares of Bo-Katan and Fenn Rau on him. “We do not know where he is or where he has gone. It could be an Outer Rim planet that has twin suns.”

Bo-Katan frowns in confusion. Rau stares at Bo-Katan to see if she wants to prepare. Bo-Katan studies Sabine Wren and how she avoids her gaze and fails to speak to her. “That fool spoke to you, didn’t he? Sab’ika?”

Sabine perks and sees Bo-Katan’s eyes light in fiery rage. “Yes ma’am. But I had no choice.”

Hera interrupt. “He had us under threat.”

“Ma’am, if he laid one hand on Sabine, I would have killed that Zabrak.” Zeb announces.

Bo-Katan spoke to Sabine. “What did he say, Sab’ika?”

Forlorn and distant Sabine spoke. “He said ‘you of all should trust me. Did I not once rule your people?’.”

“How come you never told me this, Sabine? I would have joined you had I known.” Rau replied.

“Because, you should want to join more than survival. You should want to join because you want to, Rau.” Sabine retorted.

Bo-Katan presses her shoulder, then Rau’s. “Today, we bring Mandalorians together as a free people, in this very room on this ship. No more are we of a traitorous past or a forgotten protector. No more are we lost future. But today, we are one people. We are Mandalorians.”

The three nod heads and shake and yell a battlecry together. “OYA! KANDOSII!”

 

***

 

Bo-Katan re-enters the cargo hold of the Ghost firing at the remaining Stormtroopers from the latest heist of the Imperial Depot. She yanks Sabine by her collar. “C’mon Sab’ika, move your butt. You have been slow all day.”

Fenn Rau pushes the stolen crates of weapons and armaments into the Ghost. His brow furrows as he huffs watching Sabine. “You have been slow. What is wrong with you?”

Jax Paven and Zeb Orrelios jump aboard the ship with their armament crates as Jax blocks bolts from several Stormtroopers with his lightsabers. Hera Syndulla closes the cargo doors and flies the ship out of atmosphere. She sees the Star Destroyers converge upon her starship. Immediately, all the Ghost crew races to their positions as Sabine sits to assist Hera.

Bo-Katan listens to transmissions as a hologram appears. It is Grand Admiral Thrawn. His torso emits a darker blue light a she looks around the area. “Captain Hera Syndulla, you did not think I would let you escape that easily?”

Hera raises her upper lip in disgust as she sneers to Thrawn. “It will be easy enough, Grand Admiral.”

“Doubtful. And Lady Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze. It would be more honorable if you’d surrender to Imperial forces, now. I am sure we can avoid a trial and get you a light sentence, being that you are the leader of Mandalore.” Thrawn's plaintive voice states flatly.

“I'll show you what I can lighten you blue-skinned devil. The metal ore to build these armaments were stolen from Mandalore.” Bo-Katan retorts.

“Oh, Bo, your accusation wounds me terribly. But no matter--" Thrawn entire demeanor changes when he sees a voluptuous Sabine enter the cockpit. A pleasured grin grades across his face in a appreciative loving tone. “Sab’ika. Tell me if the Rebels are holding you hostage? Remember, I meant what I said, I told you whenever you require my help, I will assist you." He flecks his hands ordering his TIE Fighters to standby for his orders, the stares at her for a moment with a highly sing-song, sweet compassionate voice. "Turn your Rebel friends over and I assure your safety. It would break my heart if anything were to ever happen to you.”

All eyes were on Sabine and she could tell why. She could not stop her ruddy blushing from Thrawn's comments, but that did not stop the queasiness her stomach churns inside. Her hands tremble as her lower lip quivers. There was nothing she could say to Thrawn without tears that slid down her cheeks. Her entrapment squelches her breathe, and while she agrees it would be best to turn themselves into Thrawn's custody, and then escape later, she knew the Ghost crew would not appreciate that. But she shuts her eyes and shakes her head side-to-side. “My name is Countess Sabine Wren to you, Mitth’raw’nuruodo, you will refer to me like that, or just Countess, when you address me formally.”

Bo-Katan frowns at how fearful Sabine’s hands shake and the quaver in her voice. 

Then to refer to Grand Admiral Thrawn by his full name in Cheuhn, the Chiss languages causes Thrawn to flex his brows for a moment, and then narrow them.

Sabine's stern and paradoxically immature comment is not like any officer's in anyone’s military would sound. Certainly, not an answer Bo-Katan would have taught Sabine to say. In fact, Bo found her comment personal.

Bo-Katan chimes. “If you had a heart Grand Admiral, you would let us go.”

“And let me show you what that looks like, Grand Admiral.” Hera chimes in as she jumps the Ghost to lightspeed, and away from Thrawn's fleet.

The Ghost watches the starpoints slide past them into the light tubes of hyperspace to a location away from Thrawn's converging Star Destroyers.

 

***

 

They head for their return to their base, Yavin IV moon to stockpile pilfered munitions from the Empire. Bo-Katan rises and yanks Sabine by the ear out of her seat and into the galley. Bo-Katan backs Sabine into her “Phoenix Starburst” painting and leans into her. “What’s your malfunction, Sab’ika?”

Fenn Rau enters in the area and stops Zeb and Jax from pulling Bo-Katan away from Sabine. “Stay out of this.” He comes into the personal spaces of the two Mandalorian women and speaks in low murmurs. “What is going on Dalayc? Sab’ika you were slow in your return fire and blaster accuracy. Those are rookie mistakes. Care to explain?”

Sabine wails unable to say anything as her hands shake more. “I feel...I feel...very...sick…” The only statement she manages to squeak aloud. Then she vomits into the trash.

Jax races to hand her fizzy soda. He glares at Bo-Katan and Fenn as they frown dismayed.

Bo-Katan recalls the discussion with Thrawn. “Why would Grand Admiral Thrawn call you ‘Sab’ika’?” She takes the fizzy soda away from Sabine while she glares at Jax daring him to interrupt. Jax raises his hands and backs off, but not far. She looks into Sabine’s eyes as she cups her chin carefully then pats her down for contraband. A small hard bulge in her inner pocket shows a long-acting multivitamin patch. Bo-Katan studies it with a perplexed frown as to why Sabine would take such medications, and then throws it to Fenn Rau who caught it. “That side trip you and Jax took, is this what the med-droid gave you? A long-acting multi-vitamin patch?”

Jax attempts to answer as Rau stops him. “Let her answer.”

Sabine shrinks into her position and mouths her affirmation. “Yes.”

Bo-Katan closes her eyes and nods her head as she nods her head and counts to ten. She re-opens them directly on Sabine who has tears rolling down her eyes. “How far along are you, Sab’ika?”

Rau’s arms are crossed as he shifts position as hears Bo-Katan’s comment. Then it dawns on him what the nature the questions Bo-Katan was asking Sabine. “What? No!” He states loudly. “How Sab’ika?” He gawks and throws up his hands and places them on his hips and glares at Jax “Is it his? Because I swear, I will kill him, right here, right now.”

“No. It’s not Jax's, Rau.” She belts backward. “I’m 15 weeks, Manda’buir—“

“How long have the others known?”

“I knew after 5 weeks, Bo.” Hera replies.

“And I knew, recently.” Jax follows behind Hera. “It’s not me. I'm not--but—“

“When you rescued me? You knew then?” Bo-Katan sighs as she punches the wall. “Who’s the father, Sab’ika and don’t lie to me.”

“It’s not Jax." Zeb speaks very calmly. "I found out recently, too. Jax can sense the Force inside Sabine.”

“No Jax. Please.” Hera shakes her head in fear of what Bo-Katan will do to everyone aboard the ship.

“You mean to say that her child has the Force?” Rau asks in shock.

“Did he hurt you, Sab’ika or is this what you wanted?” Bo-Katan interrogates Sabine.

“No. He never hurt me.” Sabine states sheepishly. “I made a choice because it was what I thought I wanted.” She rubs over her bulging stomach.

“Who is the father, Sab’ika?” Rau asks calmly. “You can trust me. Tell me.”

Sabine eyes widen more as tears drop from her eyes unable to speak. Her eyes fill with water as she pleads with Bo-Katan for her to guess. None of the crew of the Ghost knew for certain. But none asked. Only Bo-Katan, her "godmother" is permitted to ask. Sabine had to share this secret with a Mandalorian woman who would understand. Understand the fight, understand that Mandalorians trudge the same mud. She was desperate to share.

Bo-Katan hugs Sabine tightly. “Sab’ika, I will always love you, ner'Manda'adi'ika. But you are going to have to tell us who the father is of your baby--.” She stops speaking as she sorts it out from all the catch up in life talk they have done. “It’s that Imperial, isn’t it?”

“Who? That Captain we met?” Rau belches.

“Ner’Manda, Sab’ika! Could you have not chosen anyone less powerful in the entire galaxy?” Bo-Katan throws up her hands in astonishment.

“No! You don’t mean--” Hera replies and stares into Jax's eyes in fear. “How strong is this child’s Force, Jax? Can you sense that?”

As Jax follows the conversation through the Force as he learns who the father of Sabine’s child is. “If the child can be sensed, then the child has the Force.”

All Sabine can do is sob aloud. How could she get out of this situation? It is what she wanted. But not messy like this as it was. Zeb Orellios sat next to her embracing her with his soothing voice. Then Bo-Katan sat on her other side.

“That Chiss will pay for this. If he finds out you have his child and his child is Force sensitive, you will never be a Rebel and the Mandalorians will never trust you after your second chance. Is this what you want?” Bo-Katan studies her tearful face. “Chiss leadership kills Force sensitive children and especially mixed-race children. They have anti-miscegenation laws in the Chiss Ascendancy. And no offense Jax, but the Jedi Order is no more and a child would be identified by the Inquisitors and taken for their uses.”

“We could hand the child to some other Force Users.” Jax suggests.

“No. I will never give my baby to anyone.” Sabine snaps. After a long moment she speaks quietly. “I want rectification.”

It was not a word Jax wants to hear, but he understood why she would want it. “Where can you get rectification in this Imperial galaxy?”

Hera speaks softly to Sabine. “Is that what you truly want, Sabine?”

“I can go to the Hapes Consortium with some kind of decoy Imperial escort ship that can pilot around mist-asteroids.” Sabine states flatly. “I have done my research and looked at all my options. I was going to do it after this mission.  Charter a trip not to put any of you out. Just...I do not have all my pieces.”

“Sabine, you were going leave me going to this 'Hops' place? Why did we go to the med center?” Jax whines.

“Because Jax, I do not have all my pieces and well--.”

“You thought you might have to through with the pregnancy and try to explain it to Thrawn.” Bo-Katan completes the sentence. “You know it will be hard to raise the child as Mandalorian if the child appears Cerulean skinned. Lekku and headtails can be explained, but blue skin from a Mandalorian enemy?”

“Mandalorians have never gotten along with Chiss. Chiss have always served the Sith.” Rau states.

“Well, didn’t we when Maul governed our people?” Sabine pleads.

“Chiss have found a way to outsmart the Sith even without the Force.” Jax replies. “But there were Chiss Jedi killed during Order 66. Still, Grand Admiral Thrawn is the father.”

Sabine starts to sob again. “How could I have been so stupid?”

“There-there…what other pieces do you need? I will get you there. I will get you to the Hapes Consortium.” Bo-Katan asks as she holds Sabine in her arms.

“I need a ship. Not the Ghost. A smuggler-type ship and I can’t find Ketsu Onyo, anywhere. And I need an Imperial that can help me that won’t tell Thrawn. And I need for this tiredness and exhaustion to go away.” Sabine sobs as she ticks down her list of possibilities.

“Isn’t Lando Calrissian a smuggler?” Jax asks.

“Who?” Rau asks.

“Lando, a smuggler.” Hera speaks. “I would not use Hondo Ohnaka. He is a pirate and would betray us to the Imperials at first chance.” She thinks about the possibility. “If I understand the Hapans, they are a matriarchy and ruled by women.”

“Yes, they are. The only reason why they would accept smugglers, and they're xenophobic. But they'd do the procedure on Sab'ika because she is a human who is pregnant by an alien.” Bo-Katan answers matter-of-factly. “Which is why you did not want to use the Ghost or Hera as a Twi'lek.”

Sabine nods.

"The Hapans might extend special circumstances for their selective reproductive choices and protections for you.” Rau replies.

“As much as I hate xenophobia, I do understand why.” Zeb announces. “Is there something we are missing?”

Bo-Katan takes over and order them. “Contact that Lando guy and see if he has a pilot and ship.” She looks down and then looks at Rau to see what his thoughts were. “I’ll contact the Imperial Commandos and I will tell him that I found Fenn Rau and set up a meeting with some Imperial that they like.”

Hera interrupts. “NO! We can use Fulcrum. He will do it. Besides, he owes me. But we still have to put his head on the line and force him not to speak a word of it.”

“Who is Fulcrum?” Bo-Katan asks. “No matter, he flies with this Lando. But we still need a pilot. So who?”

“Wedge could do it. He's my friend. Very trustworthy.” Jax volunteers.

“Wait, kid, these mists are like an asteroid field but gaseous turbulence. That is why no one can just get into the Hapes Consortium. The Hapan Matriarchy have developed technology to open it up and have permitted women in need to travel there in freedom for years, but only if the women can navigate these mists.” Bo-Katan snips at Jax. “No, I will ask for a suggestion from this Lando guy about a pilot.”

Kanan’s brows rise. “But who? We have the best pilots.”

“When I was imprisoned, it was not because of Sab’ika’s expulsion from the Mandalore Imperial Academy.” Bo-Katan sees the face of Sabine. “But because, I too was in the same position she is in now. The father. Well, I can’t tell you that, but he predicted, that the Inquisitors would kidnapped my daughter. I seriously considered rectification to the Hapes Consortium, but I chose to give birth. Then when I returned to Mandalore, I was arrested, charged and imprisoned. The rest is history. I don’t know where my daughter is.”

“Where is the father, now?” Zeb asks.

“The Inquisitors sensed your daughter, didn’t they?” Jax asks.

Bo-Katan nods, and speaks softly to Zeb. “He is on the one planet that Vader will never visit.”

“He’s the father, isn’t he?” Jax asks.

“Jedi... I should be mindful of my thoughts, huh?” Bo-Katan irritated.

“Why didn’t you?” Jax asks wanting to learn more. “Nevermind.”

Sabine starts to smile and looks to Bo-Katan. “Vor’e Manda’buir.”

“Always trust your family and those that love you, Sab’ika. We want the best for you.” Bo-Katan holds her in her arms. “But one day you will have to tell Thrawn about this fact. He will hate you for it. He may not be the outward emotional type, especially on personal matters, but the Chiss never struck me as caring or compassionate. Just logical. This situation...Sab'ika are you sure you want to rip his heart out like this?”

Rau added. “He finds out about this plan, his entire fleet will destroy the mists and expose the Hapes Consortium. Understand Sab’ika? Because, any second thoughts you feel you might have, you must tell us, and this entire plan will stop.”

“I understand.” Sabine answers. “I want rectification. I want reproductive choice. I want an abortion.”


	13. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grand Admiral Thrawn has absconded Sabine Wren away from her home planet, Krownest to his Star Destroyer, Chimaera. He learns he needs Sabine and that for her to be in his life, he must support her than what happened at the Hapes Consortium (to be written). He convinces Sabine they need to wed on Krownest and she agrees to go with him to Corellia, but Thrawn's Star Destroyer and fleet are diverted to escort Darth Vader to the medical facility on Coruscant after the destruction of the Death Star. Thrawn has to pick up Darth Vader, but he has Sabine with him. What can he do.

Thrawn hurries to his quarters before the new ship embarks into the  _Chimaera._ His concerns dwell on the last report from the Emperor’s office announcing the Death Star’s destruction by Rebel forces, all on the battlestation were dead, Tarkin, Yularen and other compatriots. His fleet was stationed out in the edges of space and remains intact. Then Darth Vader activates the secret beacon Thrawn gave to him, and he requires Thrawn’s assistance. Sure, it was fine any other time, but this time – the…new  Countess of Mandalore, Sabine Wren, is in his custody, and she is not held his prisoner. She is his lover – different, human responsibility he has undertaken due to his profound loneliness. He mind rotes for concern for Sabine. “She agreed we would separate after the Hapan incident. But she is here now in my quarters.” If sweat were to drip from his brow the sight of it is unapparent.”  

“Made it.” He enters his quarters and furiously searches for her. “Sab’ika? You have to go–” He stops in his tracks to see her examine a hologram of her art from Ganthel.

“How long have you had this image, Loras’ika.” Her transliterate name for the “Raw” of Mitth’raw’nuruodo.  

“Since the ball. C’mon, we’ve got to go, Countess.” He reaches for her hand and holds her as he yanks her out of quarters. “This is my mistake. I should have never permitted you aboard my ship. I should have told you to meet me planetside. But I doubt you would have come.”

Sabine says nothing and runs with him in her formal royal attire. She had no time to change into her armor when Grand Admiral Thrawn arrested her for Rebel criminal activities on Krownest. Her parents, the Dowager Countess Ursa Wren and Aldrich Wren, and the Lady Bo-Katan Kryze’s forces made vows to recover her from the Empire’s kidnapping. 

But that is not why Thrawn took her. He took Sabine to place her under Imperial law. That way, their son would be under Imperial law, and have legal rights to Thrawn’s Imperial property. Sabine quietly agreed to marry Thrawn, in secret, for the legal requirements. The problem is they could not refrain from the passionate sex. Something kept their desire for each other to be sated. But, right now, it was hustling Sabine off his ship.

“Kicking me out so quickly, Loras’ika?” She snort laughs. “How do you expect me to free myself from this without knowing any Rebels?” 

Thrawn turns to her with a glare. “If they are planetside, they will be dealt with, severely as will you.”

Sabine wrangles her hand from his grip and stops running. “You would kill me after all we have been through? After all the fucking we have done?”

Thrawn separates a distance from the hangar bay. “No! You know how I feel about you. Don’t you know how important you are to me and our son, Sab’ika?” His voice breaks. “If you go planetside, I will be down as soon as I can after I deal with this new situation that arose. We will find someone to help us. I promise. Please trust me.”

She stands while hearing his plea, and then she feels a strong presence rise behind her. She sees Thrawn’s face go from an impassioned plea to Sabine to one of utter horror as a respirator exchanges air. She turns to see a huge figure monstrous over her and immediately recognizes the beast as Darth Vader.

“You need help, how, Grand Admiral Thrawn?” The mechanized voice reverberates the silent air between them.

Thrawn’s face goes from horror to straighten uniform and a stone face, he becomes calm indicative of his cruel Imperial officer nature though his heart breaks for heart to Sabine. A long moment passes between all three people present in the hangar. Then Thrawn speaks. “Lord Vader, the Countess Sabine Wren and I want to be married, but no one will solemnize the marriage for us. It is because I am an alien and there are laws. Imperial anti-miscegenation laws. We need to marry–or rather I need to marry under Imperial law for our son, and the baby on the way. Sir. My Lord.”

Sabine says nothing. She cannot believe that Thrawn would mention their son, and then possibly another child to Darth Vader who could kill them with his laser eyes by now. But, how would he know about her? She reels to eek out her tiny comment.  “He would know, the Empire does not allow contraceptive.” She stares into the eye lens of Darth Vader to see if he could see her. She felt naked before him althought she wore heavy formal attire as the new Countess of Mandalore. If Darth Vader kills her she surmises, the whole of Mandalore and other Mandalorians will rally behind the Rebel cause. She closes her eyes and barely opens them back until he speaks.

Darth Vader senses Thrawn has told him the truth and the young woman, Sabine Wren, the new Countess of Mandalore with mannerisms very much like the old Duchess of Mandalore Satine Kryze, he senses through the Force that she is pregnant. Darth Vader knows he cannot stop them from breeding. He also owes Thrawn his life. The least he could do is to give both of them some minor satisfaction in their lives. “I know of a place. Set your coordinates to Naboo.” 

Darth Vader leaves them as he senses a hug between them and enters a private area to contact the Emperor. The Emperor appears in hologram.  “The Marquis and Marchioness takes their positions, my Master.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Read the less intrusive fanfic slightly different from this one >> [HERE](https://swag77.wordpress.com/2016/07/23/saawariyaartstars/)  
> Support our efforts: http://bit.ly/Thrawnbine77, http://bit.ly/SabineWren, http://bit.ly/ThrawnStarWars


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